


Old Soul

by emmettsmantiddies



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Old Soul, TW-stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 92,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmettsmantiddies/pseuds/emmettsmantiddies
Summary: Raquel Lewis is new to Forks, Washington and is quickly exposed to the intriguing Cullen family, especially Emmett Cullen. What she doesn't know is that she's an old soul. In fact, not only is she Emmett's blood singer, but also has been several of the humans Emmett has killed in her past lives. Can she live to tell the tale of this lifetime? Or is her history meant to repeat itself?**Disclaimer: Twilight and all of its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I only created Raquel Lewis, her family, and the general storyline. This work follows Twilight and contains some dialogue from the original work.
Relationships: Emmett Cullen/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 57
Kudos: 158





	1. New School, New Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to add a quick note so that you, my dear reader, are not confused. Jackson Hale is actually Jasper Hale; however, Jackson was never a Confederate soldier, and his backstory is a bit different. For the time being, just know that Jackson is the biological twin of Rosalie Hale, has the same empath powers, and is the mate of Alice. I originally wrote this story with Jasper in it, but I cannot in good conscience leave him in knowing how harmful his backstory is, hence the name change. I apologize if this change is confusing or disappointing, but I feel as though I need to value the opinions of POC in the fandom and the real-life racist implications of having a character who canonically was proudly a part of the Civil War fighting for the maintenance of the institution of slavery.  
> Thank you.

There’s always something jarring about not immediately knowing where you are when you wake up. As I tried to make sense of the strange room around me, I reach over to turn off the alarm that woke me. The furniture of the room was wrong—it looked too large for the room, making me feel smaller than ever. The bedspread was familiar, a satiny cream with burgundy lace detailing, the same one in my old home. With this thought my memory came flooding in. How could I forget the single largest change in my entire life? The sudden move that brought me from Virginia, where there are four distinct seasons, to Washington, where there are two seasons, cold and rainy and just plain cold? Two thirds of the way into the school year no less.

With this revelation I threw the covers off and head to the bathroom to get ready for my first day at Forks High School. I brushed my teeth and threw my hair into a semi-decent ponytail before changing into the outfit I picked out for this momentous occasion, a lilac sweater, jeans, and a pair of brown boots. I rush down the stairs, my early morning confusion making me late. Grabbing a pop-tart and my bookbag, I head towards the door where my mother waits to intercept me before I make my escape.

“Are you ready for your first day? A fresh start and all that jazz?” She asks with a small, hopeful smile on her face.

“Sure. What’s better than starting a new school towards the end of the school year?” I ask sarcastically, softening my expression into a slight grin when I see my mother grimace.

“We wouldn’t have done this if we didn’t think it was best for you,” my mother says while looking down. “Don’t forget to pick up your brother after school! Do you have the address?”

“It’s already in my phone.” I call over my shoulder as I walk through the front door. I shiver in the still-chilly morning air and climb into my Honda Accord, a hand-me-down from my parents. I turn on my navigation and begin the drive to my new school.

I get turned around a bit despite the directions straight from my phone, so by the time I make it to Forks High, I have to park in one of the farthest parking spots in the lot. There are no students loitering by their vehicles, so I assume I’m already late and begin to speedwalk towards the building closest to me, hoping it’s the office. From what I can see of the school, I assume that I’m going to have a difficult time trying to find my way around. The school is built like a maze, with multiple buildings that seem to be strewn out willy-nilly. I sigh, surrounded by snow falling lightly, my breath making a white puff in the frigid air.

Upon entering the office, a nice, older woman looked up from where she was typing noisily on an ancient-looking desktop computer. I approached her, glancing at the name plate facing out from her desk.

“Hi, Ms. Cope? I’m Raquel Lewis, I’m new here. I was told to come to the office before heading to class?” My voice came out shakier than I intended.

“Oh, Raquel! I was worried you’d decided not to join us! You’re a little late, you see,” she babbled, handing me a thick folder with many papers inside, “Here is your schedule; I’ve taken the liberty of circling the buildings where your classes are and marked the best routes to them. If you could also get your teachers to sign your schedule and return it to me at the end of the day, please. If you need anything else, I’ll be here.” With a smile and a wave, I was effectively dismissed.

“Thanks, Ms. Cope. I’ll see you at the end of the day, I guess.” I said as I pushed open the office door with my back. I glance down at my schedule to find my first class, English.

After making the trek to what I hope is the right building, I enter the empty hall, attempting—and failing—to casually look at the room numbers. Finally finding room 347, I steel myself and open the door.

“Nice of you to join us, Miss—” The balding man starts to say before looking over at me and realizing he didn’t recognize my face.

“Lewis. I’m sorry for being late, I’m a new student and somehow managed to get lost on my way here.” I respond as I walk over to him and hand him my schedule for him to sign, which he does grudgingly before handing it back to me.

“We’re working on Macbeth. You’ll need to get your own copy, but for now you can share with someone around you.” He dismisses me by nodding towards an empty seat. I sit down, unsure of which of my fellow students will be unlucky enough to share with me. Before I can ask the dreaded question, the girl beside me quietly speaks up.

“You can share with me, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” I smile at her, and she returns it. She scoots closer as quietly as she can. She tucks her dark brown hair over her right shoulder so it doesn’t get in my way as her soft brown eyes scan the page of her copy before pointing out what line we’re on.

After class, the girl beside me hesitates while I pack up my things.

“I’m Bella, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Bella. I’m Raquel.” I glance up at her.

“I’m still new here, too. In fact, your arrival will hopefully take some of the spotlight off of me.” Bella says, nervously twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

“Glad to be of service,” I reply with a grin, “By any chance, could you point me in the direction of the science building?” After Bella points it out on my map and lets me in on a shortcut, I thank her and head out.

Biology, American history, and trigonometry all pass in a blur. I don’t share any other classes with Bella, but the school’s population is so small that I notice familiar faces in each of my classes. Outside of the Spanish building, I catch up to Bella as well as a girl named Jessica, who seems to enjoy the attention that being around not just one, but both of the new girls awards her. The three of us head to the lunch room, Bella clutching a binder like a shield as though someone was about to attack her with a barrage of snowballs.

“Don’t worry, Bella. If anyone looks at you with a snowball, I’ll protect you. After all, I sincerely doubt anyone here would throw one at the new girl. Well, newer girl.” Even though she was a couple inches taller than me, Bella laughs and thanks me for my brave sacrifice. We enter the cafeteria and join the lunch line. Bella looks across the room and suddenly looks nauseous, opting to buy just a soda. I grab some food and follow her to a table filled with several people I recognize from my classes.

“Guys, this is Raquel, she’s new here.” Jessica says as she takes a seat beside me, gesturing towards me like the hostess of a game show displaying the top prize.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” A blonde guy with a rounder face says before turning towards me.

“I’m Mike. Mike Newton. We’re always happy to have another lovely lady join our masses.” He smiles as he holds out a hand. I shake it gingerly before returning to my food. Jessica points out people, saying their name as she points, and I forget their names as soon as she moves on to the next person. I glance to my left to see Bella look incredibly uncomfortable. Before I can ask her what’s wrong, Mike speaks up while looking over his shoulder.

“Looks like Cullen’s back.” The scowl on his face shows his feelings on this person’s return.

“Cullen? Who’s that?” I ask, following Mike’s gaze to a table of five incredibly attractive people.

“Looks like someone finally found the Cullens.” Jessica sing-songs, nudging my shoulder with hers.

“They moved here a couple years ago and don’t really socialize with the rest of us plebs.” Mike adds with an eye roll.

“The blondes are Rosalie and Jackson Hale, that’s Edward, Alice has the short hair, and the muscled up one is Emmett Cullen. They were adopted by Dr. Cullen and his wife, I think the Hales are his wife’s niece and nephew or something.” Jessica informed me, as if she’d been over this spiel before. I follow Jessica’s descriptions and see a blonde guy and girl are sitting next to each other at the table, a boy with wind-tousled reddish hair, a tiny girl with an untamed, black pixie cut, and finally, a giant guy with black curls and incredible muscles.

“Bella seems to have gotten on Edward’s bad side—he disappeared for like a week after he met her.” Another guy, Eric, I think, pipes up. I glance to my left to see Bella turn a shade of crimson that cannot be healthy.

“I didn’t _do_ anything.” She mutters before sneaking a glance at them before dutifully turning her eyes back to the table.

“Edward Cullen is staring at you.” Jessica giggles as she leans around me to shake Bella’s shoulder.

“Does he seem mad?” Bella asks, fidgeting again. I look over and see Edward staring at Bella, head cocked to the side.

“Not particularly. More curious, I’d say.” I tell her, and she breathes a sigh of relief as she puts her head down on her arm. I glance over at the table again and make eye contact with Edward, his eyes an unusual shade, like butterscotch. I wonder to myself what Bella, who seems as kind and inoffensive as they come, could have done to this guy, especially considering she was new. And what kind of dramatic person just avoids school for a while because of a perfect stranger? As this thought crosses my mind, Edward’s mouth quirks up the slightest bit in knowing, and I would’ve sworn he somehow knew what I was thinking.

I break the eye contact as the bell rings, and Jessica offers to walk with me to the gym, which we have together. She leads me across the cafeteria, and as we approach the Cullen table, the five of them get up and leave almost frantically as we get closer. I look at Jessica, who shrugs. As we pass the now vacated table, I notice that in the spot where the giant one, Emmett, I think Jessica said his name was, was sitting, the table has indentations in it, spaced and shaped like someone’s fingers had gripped the table so hard it molded to them. My guess is that it came from the years of teenagers attempting to leave their mark on the school.

In gym, Coach Clapp hands me a uniform and informs me that the class just started the badminton unit. Jessica immediately clings on to me as soon as I’m out of the locker room, announcing that we _have_ to be a team. Seeing no other viable options, I take a position closer to the net. In all of my years in the public school system, badminton was the only part of P.E. I actually liked—and was decent at. The hour passed incredibly quickly as Jessica and I proved ourselves to be a formidable team, winning all but two of our matches. As Coach blows his whistle, we high five and return to the locker room to change.

I’m grateful for the cold Forks air as I walk to the Spanish building, as it cools me down and dries the sweat from the back of my neck. I run into Ben Cheney halfway there, who reminds me who he is and that we sat at lunch together. He offers to walk with me the rest of the way, and seeing no reason against it, I agree. The Spanish teacher, Mrs. Goff, sits at her desk as Ben and I enter the classroom.

“Hi, Mrs. Goff, I’m—” I start to say before she cuts me off.

“En Español, por favor.” She says without looking up. I sigh.

“Hola, Señora Goff. Me llamo Raquel, y soy una estudiante nueva. ¿Puede usted firmar mi horario para la oficina?” I reply. She glances up at me as if seeing me for the first time.

“Oh, I’m sorry Raquel. It didn’t register that you were a new student. It’s nice to meet you. In general, my policy for this class is for everyone to only speak in Spanish. Is that okay? Did you take Spanish at your old school?” She asks, taking the schedule and signing it.

“It’s fine with me, I was in advanced Spanish at my old school.” I say as she hands me a slip and points at an empty seat that’s behind the human Goliath himself, Emmett Cullen. I move to take it when a smooth voice interrupts.

“Mrs. Goff, wouldn’t it make more sense for—" Edward breaks, gesturing towards me, not knowing my name.

“Raquel,” I supply.

“Right, Raquel to sit in front of Emmett?” Edward turns towards the teacher. Emmett hits his brother’s arm, so hard I wince thinking about the inevitable bruise. Edward looks at his brother, who subtly shakes his head.

“It’s fine. I can manage.” I say, moving once again to take the seat behind Emmett.

“Raquel, don’t be ridiculous. Emmett, please switch with her.” Mrs. Goff says with finality. I pick up my stuff and wait for Emmett to get out of his seat. He glares at his brother and mutters something under his breath. I slide into the desk, glancing to my right briefly, trying to figure out why Edward was so concerned about my ability to see the board.

After Mrs. Goff lectures about the imperfect tense and passes out a worksheet for us to complete, the room is filled with the quiet buzz of small talk and questions about the different conjugations. As I make my way through the questions, I can feel the annoyance rolling off of the presence behind me in waves.

I’m about halfway through the worksheet when I get tapped on the shoulder. I turn to find Emmett giving me a grin, although it looks slightly like a grimace.

“Hola,” He says with a deep baritone voice. His accent sounds exaggeratedly American, almost to the point that it seems to be on purpose, “Me llamo Emmett.”

“Soy Raquel.”

“Mucho gusto,” he hesitates, thinking of what he plans to say next. “Lo siento sobre antes. Estoy embarazada.” Edward drops his head into his hand and I stifle a laugh.

“You’re pregnant?” I ask, a small giggle escaping. Emmett gapes, eyes darting between me and Edward, who shakes his head as if to say “you’re on your own for this one, buddy.”

“I, uh, no. I meant embarrassed.”

“False cognate. It’s a common mistake. Don’t worry about earlier, it’s really fine.” I shrug. Thankfully, the bell rings then, and Edward and Emmett amble quickly out of the classroom, almost too fast to be human.

I head back to the office and return my fully signed slip to Ms. Cope.

“So, not as bad as you thought?” She asks with a smile.

“It was less painful than I expected.” I reply, and she laughs. I leave, citing my need to pick up my younger brother and head out to the parking lot. I’m about a quarter of the way through the lot when I hear them.

“Embarazada, huh?” Edward jeers at his brother, who scowls back at him.

“Cut it out. At least I try to act like I’m not a walking dictionary.”

“That’s not all,” Edward says, addressing the group now. He catches my eye and lowers his voice so much so that I can’t hear what he says, but I think he might mention “karma.” I continue making my way across the lot and climb into my car.

I take a minute to type in the address to the middle school before pulling out of the lot. It continues to rain, and once my brother is in the car, he shakes his head like a wet dog, sending water everywhere.

“Will!” I complain, but he shoots me an impish grin, unrepentant in the least.

“How was your first day?” He asks, trying to distract me from the water he just flung all over my car.

“High school is high school wherever you go. How was yours?” I ask.

“It was super fun. I met a lot of cool guys and they were telling me all about the town. There isn’t much to do here, but they said there’s some stuff in Port Angeles. Will you take me sometime?” He gives me the little-brother-puppy-dog-eyes he knows I can’t resist.

“Fine. But only if Mom and Dad say you can and you’ve finished all of your homework.”

“You’re the best sister, Quel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I add a good-natured eye roll in, so he doesn’t think that I’m a complete sucker for him and his antics.

✧❉✧

My mom finally corners me when I’m doing homework in my room. I hear a knock at my door.

“Come in!” I say, looking up from the biology assignment on the phases of cells. My mom leans against the doorframe, her wild curls tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck with some success. Her hair is the kind of curly that’s manageable and can be wrangled into cooperation. My hair, on the other hand, is the weird hair texture of not-quite-wavy-but-not-quite-straight which leads to questionable styling choices, most of which involve some degree of frizz.

“I was just wondering how your day went.”

“It was fine. I’m in pretty much all the same classes I was in Virginia, so it’s not like I’m super behind in anything.” I think she’s going to give up on the subject, so I return to my work.

“And the people? Any new friends?”

“The people are nice. There’s another new girl named Bella, and she’s pretty cool.”

“Any cute boys?” She asks, dragging out the word boys with a smirk on her face.

“No.” I hesitate for a fraction of a second, thinking of the Cullens, specifically the one that’s impossible to miss due to his gigantic size. I can tell my mom picks up on it based on the glint in her eye, but she mercifully leaves me in peace.

After she’s gone, I find myself wondering what I missed in the exchange between Edward and Emmett in Spanish class, why Emmett was so opposed to moving to sit behind me. And then, in the parking lot? Why did they suddenly quiet down when they saw me? Unless they were talking about me being new. But most other kids at Forks High did not care if I heard them talking about me—in fact, they wanted me to hear so that I could tell them that the rumors they’re gossiping about are wrong. I get so distracted trying to piece together what the Cullens’ deal is that I lose track of time. I realize how exhausted I am, and I go into my bathroom to take a shower, brush my teeth, wash my face, and change into my pajamas. Climbing into my bed, I feel relaxed, the first time I’ve felt this way in months. Before my thoughts can spiral down into the reason why that is, I direct my focus to the day’s events. After replaying Spanish class three times, I finally drift off to sleep, no closer to figuring out what Emmett’s reaction meant than before.


	2. Double Entendre

I feel less jittery the next day, more in control of my situation. I decide to leave extra early just to see if I can manage to get to the school without using my GPS. The extra time is for when I inevitably get lost and have to resort back to using a GPS for guidance. As I pull slowly out of my driveway, I notice how slick and icy the roads are.  


“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Virginia anymore.” I mutter to myself. Back in Virginia, if there was even a hint of a snowflake in the sky, the entire state shut down. Here, no one bats an eye even if inches of snow cover the ground and thick sheets of ice cover the roads.  


After a few almost-wrong turns, I manage to make it to school, in one piece no less. Since the lot is emptier than it was yesterday, I park a bit closer to the school. I also notice that the Cullens are standing around a silver Volvo like yesterday. I climb out of my car and head into English, carrying my dad’s old copy of Macbeth, though I plan to get a copy of my own when I take Will to Port Angeles. I’m adding sticky notes to important passages that I think will bolster my argument for the paper due soon. Angela, a tall girl that I sat with at lunch yesterday hurries over to me, taking Bella’s seat. She looks flushed, her eyes wide and her breathing faster than normal.  


“Hey, Angela. Are you okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned that she’s going to pass out with how shallow her breathing is.  


“Yeah, it’s Bella. Tyler was being reckless, driving way faster than he should have been, and he lost control of his van and it almost hit Bella. Apparently, Edward was there beside her and pulled her out of the way just in time. She’s going to the hospital now to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. Jessica, Mike, and Eric are going to make sure she’s okay. I figured she won’t want all the attention, so I’m staying here.” Angela gets out in one breath. I gasp a little when I hear Bella was almost killed.  


“We should try to get her notes for her, so she isn’t stressing about that.” I say, and Angela nods. We discuss the logistics, that I can get Bella’s notes for trig, Spanish, and English, and Angela will get her notes for history and biology. I ask Angela for both her and Bella’s phone numbers, so I can text them later. Making friends, check.  


My day passes in a blur again until lunch. I join Angela at the table, where only another girl and Ben are sitting.  


“I see you’ve decided to join the lunch-from-home team.” Angela says to me, gesturing towards her lunchbox.  


“Yeah, I had hope that the food here would be decent, but I was sadly disappointed.” I reply as I slide into the seat next to her.  


“Huh. Edward’s back in school. I wonder why he’s back but not Bella.” Angela wonders aloud. I shrug.  


“Maybe her injuries were a bit more serious.” I suggest.  


“No, Jess said that she was fine, just a bit of a headache. Not even a concussion. Tyler had the worst injuries of the three, and he just had a cut on his forehead. He had to get stitches.”  


“Who knows? Maybe he just really wants to get an education.” I continue looking at the Cullen Table, focusing on Edward, who has a knowing smirk on his face, as if someone said something humorous, perhaps an inside joke. Abruptly, his expression darkens and he says something to Rosalie, fixing her with a glare that sends a shiver up my spine. The bell rings, and I wave to Angela before throwing out my trash and heading to the gym. I had managed to find all of my other classes with ease, but since I had used Jessica’s guidance to find the gym, I realize I can’t remember the way to get there. About halfway across the cafeteria, I begin to fumble around in my bag, looking for the schedule Ms. Cope gave to me.  


“Are you lost?” I look up to confirm that my ears aren’t playing tricks on me. Emmett towers over me, an easy smile on his face. Despite the smile, there’s an undercurrent of tension I can’t identify. My eyes flash over to where his siblings stand, Edward and Jackson look as if they’re about to come storming over to their bigger brother, but Alice has a hand on both of their arms and is saying something to them, which makes Jackson visibly relax but not Edward. Alice turns to him and says something more forcefully and tugs on his arm, leaving the cafeteria. Rosalie looks at me, tilts her head, and frowns, but follows her other siblings out of the building. My eyebrows raise in confusion as I turn back to Emmett.  


“No, I know where I’m going.” I say with a fake air of confidence. I walk around him and head out the door. A few seconds later I hear it swing open again and can feel Emmett’s presence behind me, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.  


“Wrong way.” He says casually. I turn around, forcing him to stop suddenly to avoid crashing into me.  


“You don’t even know where I’m going.” I say, beginning to be annoyed.  


“Sure, I do. Gym.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  


“How do you know that?”  


“You came into Spanish yesterday kinda sweaty.” His nose wrinkles a bit, but there’s a twinkle of humor in his eyes.  


“If you’re trying to make up for acting weird yesterday, you really don’t need to,” I say, frowning, “I don’t need to be pitied.”  


“Pitied? I’m genuinely just trying to help you, Raquel.” The way he says my name is kind, with an edge of something darker, completely different than the lighthearted tone he used before. I realize I’ve stepped closer to him to make my point clear, and quickly take a step back and turn on my heel, now heading in the right direction.  


I continue walking the route that I think Jessica and I took yesterday, dutifully ignoring the hulking presence that stays a good distance behind me. I take a right.  


“Left.” He says casually, and I grumble under my breath, which makes him laugh. I see the gym ahead, but when I turn to begrudgingly thank Emmett, he’s gone. I figure he went into the building closest to me, but I didn’t hear the door open. I go into the locker room and change. By this time, Jessica is back and is all too willing to give me a play-by-play of this morning’s accident.  


“So, Tyler’s van was totally going to hit Bella, like there was no way he wouldn’t. He’s skidding, and he crashes into Bella’s truck. Everyone runs over and Edward Cullen is there holding onto her, almost cradling her. She said he was there and just had really good reflexes. She also claimed she was fine but she hit her head, so Edward told the EMTs to take her to the hospital to be checked out. Naturally, Mike, Eric, and a bunch of other people and I went to make sure she’s okay. What are the odds that not only would there be a car accident but that Bella of all people would be involved?” Jessica babbles, waving her hands animatedly as she talks.  


“How strange.” I say, grabbing two racquets and a birdie. Today, Jess and I play singles, and I shut my brain off, instead keeping focus on the birdie as Jess sends it over the net. My annoyance at being followed by Emmett dissipates with every hit. By the time class is over, I’m calmer, but even sweatier than I was yesterday. I change back into my regular clothes, but leave my hair up in the ponytail I pulled it into at the start of class. I hoist my bag onto my shoulder and head out of the locker room with Jessica, who isn’t in much better shape than me.  


“Damn, Raquel, you went _hard_.” She pants.  


“Sorry, I have a lot of pent up anger.” I shrug. Jessica looks at me from the corner of her eye.  


“Do you want to talk about it?”  


“Not particularly. It’s not a big deal, I think I just needed to hit something.” Jessica laughs.  


“If you ever decide you do need to talk, my offer still stands.” She waves and walks off to her final class. I make it to the Spanish building with a few minutes to spare. I walk into the classroom to find Emmett in my seat, his head bent close to Edward’s. They seem to be arguing, based on the way Edward’s eyebrows are furrowed and Emmett’s pleading tone, as though trying to persuade someone to see the sensible side of an issue. I cross the classroom and clear my throat. Both boys look up at me, and Emmett’s expression quickly changes to that same smile-grimace as yesterday.  


“Sorry, Raquel. Family drama.” He says, standing and sweeping an arm to invite me to take a seat.  


“Look, Edward, it’s not about what I think, I’m just telling you how Rose is going to see it. I’m more than happy to watch it play out.”  


“Is that only because if they knew the truth, they’d want to do it to you, too?” Edward’s voice is deadly, a veiled threat. I don’t understand the context of their conversation, but it seems as though they’re having two conversations at once.  


“The difference here, Edward, is that I’m willing to do what you won’t. It’s happened before.” Edward’s eyes flash to me, trying to act like I’m not sucked into the drama I don’t even understand.  


“We’ll discuss this at home. Mrs. Goff is here.” A second later, Mrs. Goff walks in. I hadn’t even heard her approach.  


“Hola, clase,” She passes out yet another worksheet, this one focused on the vocabulary of the unit, “Trabajen con su compañero o compañera.” The classroom fills with the sound of desks scraping across the floor. Edward’s already right next to me by the time I start to move. We begin to work in companionable silence. I want to bring up the accident, but I think that Edward is more of the private type, and besides, he doesn’t really know me.  


“I don’t want to intrude on family drama, but I get it. Maybe not the specifics, but there was a lot of drama in my family before we moved here. So I get not seeing eye-to-eye with others in your family. You’ll make the right choice.” I shoot him a small smile. The side of his mouth twitches upwards.  


“Thank you, Raquel. I’m not sure of the circumstances that brought you here, but I’m sure you made the right choice, too.”  


My seat is under the air vent, and the air blowing down on me sends a small shiver down my spine. I take my hair out of the ponytail, and I run my hands through it as it falls around my shoulders to smooth it. I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me and I turn to see Emmett with his hand in a fist on the desk and his jaw clenched. His eyes flash to Edward, who gives a tiny shake of his head.  


“Señora, ¿Puedo ir al baño?” Emmett asks with his hand raised.  


“Emmett, es casi la hora de ir.” Mrs. Goff reproves.  


“Es una emergencia.”  


“Sí, rápido.” She sighs, and Emmett practically bolts out of the room.  


The last few minutes pass uneventfully, and when the bell rings, Edward grabs both his and Emmett’s stuff and heads out. By the time I’ve gathered all my things and headed out to the parking lot, the silver Volvo is gone. I guess that Emmett skipped out and Edward just walks fast, and perhaps their other siblings had final classes in buildings closer to the parking lot. I climb into my car and pick up Will at the middle school. While I’m waiting for him to come out, I text Bella and ask if I can drop her notes off, and she replies with her address. I tuck my phone away as Will jumps in.  


“Do you mind if we stop by my friend’s house? I need to give her the notes she missed.”  


“What’s in it for me?” Will asks, his hands steepled together like he’s a shrewd businessman.  


"My undying respect and the knowledge that you’re helping another student further her academic career?” I suggest.  


“Not gonna cut it.” I sigh.  


“I’ll do the dishes for you tonight.”  


“Deal.” He grins with satisfaction. I hand Will my phone to type in Bella’s address, and we find the house a few streets over from our own. The house is quaint, faded white wood with a small porch in front. I park my car and bound up the steps to the front door. There isn’t a doorbell, so I knock. A gruff-looking middle-aged man opens the door. His hair is short and dark brown, with an impressive mustache. His eyes, too, are brown, matching Bella’s to a T. This must be her father, the police chief.  


“Uh, hi, Chief Swan. I’m Raquel Lewis, I’m new around here. I brought Bella some of her notes, we have several of the same classes.” My voice comes out unsure, ending every sentence as though they were questions. Chief Swan looks me over as if assessing the validity of my claim through my appearance.  


“Raquel, come on in, and please, call me Charlie. Everyone does. Bella’s mentioned you before, happy to have the kids off of her back. Well-intentioned, they are, but with Bells, the less attention the better. Not that I blame her.” He steps back to allow me inside, and I follow him through a small living room to the stairs, Charlie chatting all the while.  


“Bells!” He calls up the stairs, “You have a visitor!” I hear Bella throw her door open, nearly frantic, and start to rush down the stairs until she sees it’s me, when she calms herself and walks down the rest of the stairs at a normal pace. Charlie heads into the kitchen to give us some time for “girl chat” as he called it.  


“Expecting someone else?” I ask with a grin.  


“I thought you might be Edward. He said he was going to explain—” she cuts herself off with a shake of her head.  


“I brought your notes. Angela has the other ones. Jess said you were okay after what happened. Is it true that Edward saved you?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as I hand her the sheets of paper.  


“Yeah, it was so strange. I guess I didn’t see him, but apparently, he was right beside me the whole time.”  


“That is a bit odd. Maybe you block him out when you see him? After all, he was a drama queen when he first came, or so I heard.” I put my hands on the post at the bottom of the stairs, then set my head down on them.  


"Maybe.” Bella doesn’t sound convinced.  


“Well, I’d better go. I promised my brother I’d do the dishes for him if he’d let me swing by. I hope you’re grateful.” I tease.  


“Incredibly so. I owe my GPA to you.” As I head towards the door, Charlie intercepts me, clearly having listened to my conversation with Bella.  


“It was nice to meet you Raquel,” He says as he opens the door for me, “you should come around here more often. Bells needs some more social interaction.” I laugh.  


“Sure, Charlie. I’ll see you later. Have a nice night.” I say as I step through the door. I drive Will and myself home, where I fulfill my end of the bargain after we eat dinner.  


“Hey, Raquel? Will? Your father called and said he’d be arriving at the end of the week. He just had to grab a few last-minute things.” My dad was still back in Virginia, handling the loose ends of—no, I told myself that I would not think about that, not here.  


“Does he have a job lined up yet?” I ask while drying a plate.  


“Not quite, but there are some promising opportunities for him here.” I try not to feel guilty that I’m the reason my dad had to quit his dream job and move across the country, though he’ll try to convince me that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. But when I start to turn my back, I can see the sadness creep back into his eyes out of the corner of my eye.  


I’m in my room drafting my argument for the English paper when my phone begins to ring.  


“Please tell me I’m not the only one struggling to write about feminism in Macbeth.” I groan into the receiver. Bella laughs.  


“I’m having a bit of difficulty, too. But then again English is my favorite subject.”  


“Must be nice. I thought I had so many ideas earlier, but now my brain is just blank. But I have a feeling you didn’t call to hear about my woes of paper writing.”  


“You’re right. About earlier—I think I hit my head harder than I thought, and I was just spewing out all kinds of nonsense. Edward was right beside me, it just happened so fast and I got tunnel vision and—”  


“It’s okay, Bella. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll keep your temporary lapse in judgement a secret. But it is strange because it seems like nobody else saw him near you, either.” I think aloud.  


“I think most people tend to ignore the Cullens because they’re different.” Bella says, absentmindedly.  


“Different how?”  


“I’m not sure. They just give off an unfamiliar vibe. Edward is so hot and cold, it’s hard to know what his deal is.” Bella sounds down as she adds the last part softly.  


“Whatever it is, I’m sure it has nothing to do with you. After all, you only moved here recently, too. There’s no way he formed a grudge against you that quickly.” I reassure her. Bella tells me she has to get back to her homework, and we say goodbye. As I hang up, I begin to wonder about my experiences with the Cullens. I’ve only interacted with two of them, but they seem relatively normal, if a little off. Edward is reserved, but not dismissive—towards me, anyway. Emmett, on the other hand—I can’t get a good read on him. It’s similar to what Bella said about Edward acting hot and cold, but on a smaller scale. He’s never been unkind, but he has acted strange around me—or is this just his normal behavior?


	3. Complete 180

Later that week at school, Bella still hadn’t ditched her crowd of worried fellow students. When she walked into English, she looked like she wanted to die rather than continue to deal with all the unwanted attention.  


“I know they have the best intentions, but I _really_ wish they’d just let me be at this point.” She sighed as she plopped into the chair beside me.  


“If you need me to plan a life-threatening situation so they’ll leave you alone, let me know,” I say with a half-smile, “have you noticed anything weird with the Cullens’ behavior?” I ask. Emmett and Edward seem to ignore me in Spanish now, Edward especially, considering we’re supposed to work together on classwork.  


“Edward’s gone back to pretending I don’t exist.” Bella drops her chin into her hand.  


“It’s not just me then.” I say, feeling validated.  


“I just wish he would make up his mind. Either he likes me or he can’t stand me. I hate the back-and-forth of it all.”  


“Oh yeah, totally. We’re supposed to work together in Spanish, and he just does the assignment in record time and begins brooding. It’s maddening. I mean I’m more of a solitary worker myself, but it feels like he just wants to get out of there. And don’t get me started on Emmett.” Bella suddenly perks up.  


“Oh, do tell.” Propping her elbow on the table, plopping her chin into her hand, and smirking, Bella’s clearly enjoying my frustration.  


“When I first came here, he was friendly. Now, he’s avoiding me like I have the plague,” It seemed as though every time I entered a space that Emmett was in, he immediately looked the other way, refusing to look in my direction at all. “I hate that I actually care. I barely know the guy, but for him to suddenly decide that I’m not worth even a second of his attention stings.” I rub my left arm with my right hand to soothe myself.  


“You don’t need his attention, Raquel. I think it sucks that both Emmett and Edward have done a 180, but no guy that acts like that is worth your time. Or mine, for that matter.” Bella reaches over and squeezes my shoulder.  


“Thanks. I think I needed to hear that. And you too.”  


✧❉✧

  


Upon my arrival at lunch, Angela and Jess look up at me with excited expressions.  


“What’s going on?” I ask, immediately suspicious.  


“Oh, nothing. Are you asking anyone to the dance?” Angela asks while Jessica leans in, eager for my answer,  


“There’s a dance?” My genuine confusion shows plainly on my face.  


“Yep, it's girl’s choice, too. Is there anyone you’re going to ask?” Jess asks, furtively glancing at Mike, frowning, then back to me.  


“I barely know anyone here, to be honest.” My mind briefly wonders if in any world Emmett would go to the dance with me, but I quickly strike it from my mind. The guy can barely stand to be around me, why in the world would he subject himself to torture by spending an evening with me. My eyes must wander over to the Cullen table which Jess doesn’t miss.  


“Don’t bother. You’ve noticed how they barely interact with others. And besides, they’re all _together_ together. Or at least, it seems that way. Alice and Jackson totally are, and Emmett and Rosalie are just a _little_ too close to each other to be adopted siblings, don’t you think?”  


“Uh, yeah, I guess.” I hadn’t noticed it before, but Rosalie and Emmett do look to be at the very least incredibly close. I look down at my lunch, disappointed but unwilling to acknowledge it.  


“Who needs boys, anyway? We can all go as a group, just us girls.” Angela says, picking up on my sudden glumness.  


“You’re only saying that because you haven’t asked Ben yet.” Jess teases Angela, who flushes.  


“You think he’d say yes?” She asks, looking over at Ben, gushing with Eric over the latest superhero movie.  


“He’d be a complete idiot not to.” Bella says.  


“He has Spanish last period, I’m in his class. You can intercept him when the bell rings.” I suggest. Angela agrees.  


In gym, we’re on the last few days of badminton before moving to basketball. Jess and I play singles again, but this time, my heart isn’t in it as much as before. I find myself thinking about why I felt hurt when Jess brought up Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship. I didn’t think I had a crush on Emmett—we’ve barely spoken to each other. Sure, he’s incredibly attractive, but I can’t help but want to know more about him. Logically, my feelings make no sense, I know that, but I can’t help feeling this cliché attraction to him. Jess gives me space as we change, and I give her a smile and promise to call her later. I don’t feel any closer to figuring out what my feelings mean. I head off to Spanish, running into Ben.  


“Hey, Ben!” I call, and he waits while I catch up to him.  


“Hi, Raquel. What’s up?”  


“Not much. Are you planning on going to the dance?” Wing-woman mode, activated.  


“Uh, is this your way of asking me?” Ben scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.  


“Oh, no! I’m just wondering, it seems like it’s all anyone can talk about.” Ben visibly relaxes when I clarify.  


“Possibly. There’s someone I want to ask me, but I don’t think she will.”  


“Why do you think that is?” I ask, crossing my fingers that he’s talking about Angela and not someone else.  


“She’s just really shy and doesn’t like to draw attention to herself. I doubt she’d notice me, anyway. She’s really tall.” Bingo! He’s described Angela to a T.  


“You never know! Don’t give up hope.” I nudge him, giddy inside that it’ll work out for Angela and Ben.  


“What about you? Plans for the dance?” By now, we’ve reached our classroom, and I force myself not to look at Emmett to see if he’s listening.  


“I’m probably not going. I don’t know a lot of people, so I feel like it’d be weird for me to ask… anyone really. If Bella, Jess, and Angela all go as a group, then I might go.” I shrug. It takes all my willpower not to gauge Emmett’s reaction. Spanish class is uneventful, although I do notice Edward slanting his gaze behind me at his brother. He frowns, but doesn’t say anything.  


After Spanish, I exit into the hall, where Angela is nervously fidgeting.  


“You got this, trust me.” I whisper, patting her shoulder as I pass her. Out in the parking lot, I decide to wait for Angela so we can have a mini-celebration together. I’m leaning against my car when I notice Bella talking to Eric by her truck. I casually walk around to the back of my car so I can be nosy and listen to what’s going on.  


“I was just wondering… if you would go to the spring dance with me?” He asks. I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle at Bella’s shocked and horrified expression. She quickly recovers and lets him down easily. As Eric turns around, I jerk myself back from the rear bumper of my car and attempt to maintain my casual air when Eric approaches me.  


“Hey, Raquel.”  


“Hi, Eric.” My guard is up, suspicious of his intentions.  


“Are you asking anyone to the spring dance?” He asks, barely meeting my eyes.  


“Not at the moment, no.”  


“Would you like to go with me?” I sigh.  


“Eric, you literally _just_ asked Bella to the dance, where I could hear you, no less. I’m no one’s second choice.” My arms are crossed, fists digging into my sides. The actual nerve of this guy to ask me to the dance after getting rejected and actually expecting me to say yes is incomprehensible to me. Eric walks away, dejected, and I feel a bit bad about my mini-outburst.  


“Girl power!” Emmett pumps his fist in the air as he walks past me, and though I try to suppress it, a smile makes its way across my face.  


After a few minutes, Angela appears, trying and failing to keep the grin from lighting up her face. She walks quickly over to me, grabs my hands and starts hopping up and down a little bit in excitement.  


“Y’know Ben is right there, right?” I can’t resist the urge to tease her a little. She immediately stops hopping and turns, smoothing her hair down and trying to act casual. When she realizes I was kidding, she gives me a light smack on my shoulder.  


“Not funny!”  


“Sorry, sorry. How did it go?” I ask, eager to hear what happened.  


“He said yes!” Angela squeals.  


“I knew it! He was talking about a girl earlier and he described you.” Angela’s mouth gapes open.  


“No way!”  


“Way,” I say. “He thought _I_ was asking him to the dance. He was so worried about how to reject me.”  


“Wow. Trying to steal my man, are you?” She nudges my hip with hers playfully.  


“Totally.” I punctuate my sarcasm with an eyeroll.  


“I gotta get home. At some point Jess, Lauren, and I are probably going to go to Port Angeles to go dress shopping. You in? We can invite Bella, too!”  


“Definitely. I promised my younger brother I’d take him to Port Angeles at some point, so I’ll see if I can do it then. I’ll see you tomorrow!” I say, waving to Angela as she walks toward her car.  


✧❉✧

  


The next day, by the time lunch has rolled around, I am done with school.  


“Explain to me how it can be legal for Mr. Banner to make us stab ourselves with a needle just to find out our blood type? The Red Cross will tell you what it is after you’ve donated.” I grumble as I flop down into my unassigned-assigned seat at the table in the cafeteria. Angela and Jessica laugh at my dramatics.  


“Blood-typing today? Ugh. Maybe this could be an article for the school newspaper…” Angela trails off.  


“I’m _still_ bleeding. If I die from blood-loss someone sue the school in my name, please and thank you.” I hold up my finger, still occasionally squeezing out a drop of the crimson liquid. Angela offers me a napkin which I wrap around my finger. At that moment, I notice Bella’s absence at our table.  


“Where did Bella go? She was here this morning.” I ask.  


“She’s with Edward.” Jess sing-songs, pointing across the cafeteria with a white plastic fork. My eyes widen with surprise as I take in the sight of Bella, her back to us, sitting across from Edward. He’s playing with the cap from her lemonade bottle.  


“He’s so into her. Look at his expression. It’s super cute.” Jess sounds genuine, but a tad bit of jealously seeps into her tone.  


My eyes slide over to the Cullen table of their own accord, and I jump a little bit. Emmett is staring at me, his eyes an intense golden hue. His eyes flick to my napkin-wrapped finger for a moment, then he says something to his siblings—the ones still at his table, at least, and leaves.  


“Y’know, Raquel, a group of us are going down to La Push Beach this weekend. You in?” Mike asks, practically bouncing up and down in excitement.  


“I’ll have to see if I’m free.” I answer cautiously.  


“Aw, come on! It’ll be fun, and as your unofficial welcoming committee, it would be a disservice—no, a crime—for us not to show you how we get down in Forks.” Eric jumps in, adding jazz hands for effect.  


“I didn’t say no, I said I’ll have to see if I’m free. My dad’s coming to town this weekend, and I haven’t seen him in a while. He may want to hang out as a family.” I shrug.  


“Why didn’t your dad move with you?” Mike’s head is tilted in confusion.  


“Mike, rude! And don’t pressure Raquel into coming.” Angela gives each of the boys a stern glance.  


“Yeah, we don’t want her to think we’re pushy.” Jessica adds in. I send them grateful smiles.  


“It’s okay. My dad came later than my mom, brother, and me because he had… a few loose ends to handle.” I struggle to find the right words. How, exactly, do you casually mention the fact that you had a stalker at your old home and had to leave because of it? Especially in a way that doesn’t evoke the pity-expression and conversations behind your back. I occasionally sneak glances at Edward and Bella, happy for her but wondering why Edward’s personality has completely flipped again.  


I mentally groan as I walk into Spanish. We have a quiz today, about the imperfect tense. Despite being late, Edward finishes ridiculously fast, with Emmett not far behind him, they silently turn in their papers to Mrs. Goff and return to their seats. About ten minutes later, I finish and turn mine in.  


After everyone has finished their quiz, Mrs. Goff goes to the front of the room.  


“Clase,” she announces. “vamos a tener un proyecto sobre los tiempos pasados usando el pretérito y el imperfecto. Porque las conjugaciones son difíciles, ¿quieren ustedes trabajar en parejas?”  


After a few moments of blank looks and no answer, Mrs. Goff sighs and gives up.  


“Do you want to work in pairs for the project?” The class immediately answers with a chorus of sí’s.  


“Bueno. Hablar con sus amigos y cuando hayan decidido, dime.” I glance around, unwilling to ask anyone in the class to work with me, as Ben already has formed a pair with the guy who sits next to him and I assume Edward and Emmett will work together. I’m about to go ask Mrs. Goff if I can just work on my own when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I exhale slowly and turn.  


“Yes?” I ask, fully expecting Emmett to ask me to move so he can work with his brother.  


“¿Quieres trabar juntos? Para el proyecto.” My surprise must show on my face because Emmett lets out a brief chuckle.  


“I mean, sure.” I shrug.  


“Lo siento, señorita, pero no hablo íngles.” He says, mock-seriousness permeating his words. I look over at Edward and raise my eyebrows, but he just shrugs, as if to say “I don’t know, either.” I look back at Emmett with a really? look on my face.  


“Por supuesto.” I reply.  


“Cool,” Emmett grins at my annoyance.  


“I thought you didn’t speak English.” I say with mock suspicion.  


“Temporary amnesia,” his smile stays plastered on his face, “not to be completely cliché, but could I have your phone number? For the project, I mean.” Edward mumbles something like “smooth” under his breath. I write my number down on a scrap piece of paper and hand it to Emmett.  


“Thanks. I’ll treasure it forever.” That gets me to give a tiny snort. Emmett gets up to tell Mrs. Goff we’re working together. I turn to Edward in his absence.  


“Where were you earlier?” I ask.  


“I took Bella home. She almost fainted in biology. Apparently, blood makes her woozy.” He replies.  


“Is she okay? Did she hit her head or anything? How is she getting her truck back?”  


“You’re full of questions today,” Edward’s mouth tips into a half smile, “Yes, no, Alice will probably drop it off after school. Any other burning questions?” Besides the ones about your family’s weird behavior? Specifically, those with a Y-chromosome? Edward quietly laughs, as if at an inside joke.  


“No.” I answer, gathering my stuff and waiting for the bell to ring.  


I reach my car when my phone buzzes from an unknown number. Adrenaline and anxiety flood my body as I remember when a text from an unknown number meant more fear and danger, like I was being suffocated. I shut my eyes, take a deep breath, and open them to look at the screen in front of me.  


_R, do you read me? -Em_ the message reads. I breathe a sigh of relief.  


_Roger that -R_  


Hitting send, I put my phone on the center console and head towards the middle school, humming along to whatever songs come on the radio.


	4. Reunions and Revelations

The next morning, I pull on a long, gray oversized sweater and black leggings. I grab my bag, a poptart, wave to my mom and leave. I want to get to school early to see Bella, and if I’m completely honest with myself, Emmett as well now that he’s talking to me again, but my heart swells with disappointment when I only see 3 Cullens standing beside the Volvo. Edward is missing as well. I catch up to Bella, who’s walking slowly towards the English building.  


“Hey!” I say, matching her stride.  


“Oh, Hi, Raquel.” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, wary. I assume it can only be because she’s not looking forward to everyone commenting on her fainting episode.  


“I won’t ask, don’t worry,” I smile in what I hope is a sympathetic gesture. Bella sighs.  


“How do _you_ know?” She asks.  


“I may have pulled a ’20 questions’ on Edward when he came into Spanish late. Y’know, if you sat with us yesterday, you would’ve found out we were blood testing. I was complaining nonstop about it,” Bella fixes me with a glare. “I’m just saying. I respect you sitting with Edward though, Jess is ready to pounce on you for answers.”  


Bella groans. We reach the classroom and take our spots.  


“Also, Emmett’s talking to me again. He wanted to work with me on our Spanish project.” Bella’s interest is clearly piqued, as she turns her whole body towards me to hear what I have to say. “But now he and Edward aren’t even here today, What gives?”  


“They’re going camping. At the Goat Rocks Wilderness, or something like that.”  


“Do they do that often?” I ask, curious to learn more about this elusive family.  


“Apparently. According to Edward they do.”  


“What else did you learn yesterday from Edward?” I smirk at Bella, who’s beginning to turn pink.  


“Just a few things about his family. Nothing about Emmett, so don’t give me that look.” Bella chastises me teasingly.  


“Darn. Do you have plans for the dance? After Eric asked you out, he tried it with me.”  


“Um, A, No. And B, No! Tell me _everything_.” Bella and I continue to talk until the bell rings, sharing stories of the boys of Forks attempting to ask Bella out to the dance.  


Despite knowing he won’t be there, I can’t help scanning the cafeteria for Emmett’s giant build. Sufficiently disappointed, I turn to Bella, who’s doing the exact same thing in search of Edward. On our way out from lunch, I hear Lauren talking to Mike about Bella.  


“… doesn’t just sit with the Cullens from now on.” Mike defends Bella, but I notice Bella slowing down.  


“Hey, don’t listen to her. She’s probably just jealous or having a bad day or something.” I say, matching her stride. “I can try to hit her with a birdie in gym, if you want.”  


Bella laughs. “No, I’m just… surprised is all. I didn’t think I gave her any reason to dislike me.”  


“Who knows.” I shrug. “Are you going to La Push tomorrow?”  


“Yeah, I think I am. Are you?” She seems grateful for the subject change.  


“No, my dad wants to catch up or have a family outing—whatever that means.” Jessica hurries over to me and starts to pull on my arm.  


“C’mon Raquel, unless you want to play doubles again.” I wave to Bella and let Jess pull me away. We manage to snag the last singles’ net on the court.  


“Did Bella tell you anything about her and Edward and what happened yesterday?” Jessica asks as I serve the birdie. I don’t like lying, but I think that Bella’s business is her own. To be fair, Bella didn’t tell me _everything_ , just the basics of what happened.  


“Not really. Did she tell you?” Jess hits the birdie high, and I reposition myself as it sails over the net.  


“Nope.” She replies as I hit the birdie again. “Mike accepted my invitation to the dance!” She squeals.  


“Yay! I’m so happy for you Jess, really.”  


“You can still come with us, if you want.” She half-heartedly offers, clearly wanting the time with Mike.  


“It’s fine. I probably wasn’t going anyway.”  


Usually, Spanish class flies by for me, but without Edward and Emmett, I feel isolated. We’re supposed to start working on our projects today—maybe that’s why Emmett wanted to be partners. He should’ve just said he wasn’t going to be here today, he has my number for crying out loud. My annoyance grows as the period drags on.  


When the idea hits, I feel like a cartoon character when a lightbulb goes on over their head. I draw two columns, titled pretérito and imperfecto. I then write example sentences under each. I smirk to myself when I see what I’ve written for each. Under the preterite side, I write “Estuve embarazada por nueve meses.” and under the imperfect side, I write “Yo estaba embarazada.” referencing our first conversation. Petty as it may be, it made me feel satisfied and vindicated.  


The second the bell rings, everyone hops up, eager for the weekend and its promise of rare good weather. I walk out to my car, throwing my bookbag in the back. When I close the back driver’s side door, I find Mike standing there, causing me to jump.  


“Dude!” I say, gently shoving him. “You scared me.”  


My heart takes way too long to settle down, my brain racing with vivid pictures of a dark, hooded figure managing to find me, waiting for a moment where I’m vulnerable and easy to snatch. I clutch my hands to my chest, as if I can slow its pumping down by pressing on it.  


“Sorry, Raquel. I called you from across the lot. I guess you didn’t hear me. Last chance for La Push. You in or out?” Mike’s apology is genuine, his face creased with concern.  


“Can I take a rain check? My dad is getting in tonight and with the jet lag and whatnot, he may not be in the mood to celebrate today, so we might be doing it tomorrow.” Mike’s face falls a bit, but he quickly recovers.  


“Sure! We’ll find a day that works for you at some point.” Mike waves, and I climb into my car.  


When I pick up Will, he’s practically bouncing in his seat. “I can’t wait to see Dad!” His enthusiasm is contagious, despite the small stab in my stomach I feel every time he’s mentioned. I’m reminded that I’m the reason that Will hasn’t seen our dad in weeks. Will complains about my driving.  


“Do you want me to get a ticket? Then it’ll take us even longer to get home.”  


“But you aren’t even going the speed limit.” He complains, pointing at the speedometer.  


“Keep it up and I’ll take the scenic route home.” I threaten. Will proceeds to pantomime locking up his mouth and handing me the key, which I dutifully put in my “pocket.” The rest of the ride is charged with Will’s pent-up energy. When I turn onto our street, Will points out our dad’s car, furiously pointing at it, still keeping up his promise of silence. I pull out the “key” and hand it back to him. He begins chattering immediately.  


“Quel, Quel, look! His car is here, he’s really here!” The second I put the car in park, Will jumps out of the car and takes off towards the house, making it clear that he sneakily unfastened his seatbelt when we got close to the house. I sigh, grab my bag and his, and follow Will into the house.  


“Quel!” My dad’s voice booms from the living room when I open the door. “There’s my girl!”  


My dad towers over all three of us, though with the way Will is eating, I’m sure he’ll lessen that gap soon. His dark eyes twinkle as he gets up from where I presume Will tackled him onto the couch. He wraps his arms around me and squishes me to his chest. He smells like home, fresh pine trees, the tang of his Irish spring soap, and the minty contrast of his aftershave.  


“Hey, Dad. How was the drive in?” My voice is muffled against his shirt.  


“Long. Very long. But, also very beautiful. The natural landscape around here is,” he whistles his approval. My dad finally lets me go after I tell him I want to change before we go out to dinner. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, my mom calls me.  


“A letter came for you.” Her voice is neutral which is comforting. Back home those five words would cause immediate tension and make everyone unnerved. I take the soft, cream envelope from my mom and breathe a sigh of relief. This letter looks nothing like the coarse, burgundy envelopes I used to receive, the color a foreshadow of the threats within. The envelope isn’t completely flat, there’s a small lump at the bottom. Though my mother seems at ease, the pit in my stomach still feels heavy. I force myself to remember that there is no way for the stalker to have found me. No one besides family knew where we were going—not even my closest friends.  


Mulling over whether or not I should open the letter as I go into my room, I decide to leave it on my desk until I make my choice. I change into slightly nicer clothing, I replace the sweater with a long-sleeved olive tunic that comes to my mid-thigh and exchange my sneakers for black boots with a small heel. I re-brush my hair, hoping to tame it somewhat, touch up my makeup, grab my bag, and head back downstairs.  


My dad drives to the Lodge, my mom correcting him from the passenger seat when he’s about to make a wrong turn. It’s clear where my lack of direction-know-how comes from. We get to the restaurant, a small diner that’s outside is designed to look like its namesake, with wooden logs making up the exterior. After being directed to a booth, I let Will take the inside before sliding in beside him. My mom sits across from Will, and my dad across from me.  


I study my dad’s face as he scrutinizes the menu, his brows creasing as he reads through the various options. The bags under his eyes are more prominent, puffier than I remember. His expression makes the lines in his face more prominent, the stress from the past year leaving its mark on his skin. I feel wracked with guilt yet again. It seems as though our family will never be quite the same, as carefree as we used to be. The only one who isn’t as affected is Will, but that’s because we told him the bare minimum. I think his intuition is better than he lets on. There’s a knowledge in his gray eyes, one that goes beyond his 14 years.  


The redheaded waitress comes back, pulling a notepad out of the red apron tied around her waist.  


“What can I get ya?” She looks at my dad, still engrossed in the menu.  


My mom nudges him with her shoulder. “Bryce?”  


He looks up, dazed for a moment before placing his order. When the waitress gets to me, she pops her gum and raises her eyebrows expectantly. I order a coke and a burger with fries. While waiting for the food to come, my dad asks Will and me questions about how school is going, new friends, the typical I-haven’t-seen-you-in-weeks small talk.  


“So, Missy, is there a boy in the picture?” He asks as I take a sip of my coke. I inhale so quickly it goes down wrong, and I begin to sputter as I try to stop myself from choking. “I’ll take that as a yes.” My dad laughs once I get my coughing under control.  


“Dad,” I groan. “You can’t just spring that on me. And that’s not a conversation any teenage girl wants to have with her father. And for the record, there is not a boy in my life.” One occupying a larger portion of my headspace uninvited, however, is a different story.  


In the car on the way home from dinner, my phone vibrates, and I look down to check it.  


_Think of the devil._ I think to myself.  


_Sorry to leave you high and dry—or wet as the case is with Forks’ weather._  


Immediately after I read this, I notice the bubbles at the bottom of the screen that indicate that Emmett is typing.  


_Wait, that sounded wrong. Very wrong. My apologies._  


I bite my lip to hide my smile.  


_I’ll try to find it in my heart to forgive you._  


His response is instantaneous. _Did you find it yet?_  


_Nope, I’m still looking in the deepest recesses of my soul._ I type out.  


_Bingo! You’re forgiven._ I send a minute after.  


_Really though, I’ll pull my weight on the project, I promise. We should make plans to work on it outside of school._ he responds.  


_Sure, we can discuss it next week._ Emmett likes my message.  


✧❉✧

  


Saturday, my dad sleeps for most of the day, citing that the jetlag had finally settled in. I worked on finishing my Macbeth paper, and once I couldn’t force another word about Shakespeare and feminism, I switched to looking for examples to use for the Spanish project.  


It’s when I’m sitting at my desk, beating the eraser-side of my pencil against the side that I remember the letter. I grab it off of the shelf above and gently tear into it.  


I turn the envelope over to pull the letter out, and something falls out. My curiosity getting the better of me, I pick up the object and study it. It’s a necklace, with a delicate gold chain and a charm on the end. I turn the charm over to reveal a dark red, teardrop-shaped stone about half the size of my pinky nail. I set it down and look inside the envelope for a note. It’s empty. Another point that it may not be the stalker—he always left a note. I push my chair back from my desk and rub my eyes. The whole reason we left was so that this stalker couldn’t terrorize me anymore, and yet here I sit, fixated on whether or not the stalker did find me and this was all for nothing. I’m about to fall down another rabbit hole of what-ifs when my phone rings.  


“Bella! How was La Push?” I’m grateful for the distraction.  


“It was… interesting. Can you come over? I really need to talk to you.” Her voice shakes a little at the end.  


“Sure! I’ll tell my parents you need me—which is true.”  


“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt your reunion with your dad.”  


“No, it’s fine, really. We had dinner together last night, and he’s been sleeping all day. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll be there in twenty.” Bella says goodbye, and I hang up my phone, putting it in my pocket. I traipse down the stairs, stopping at the front door to throw on my sneakers.  


“Hey, mom?” I call. She emerges from the kitchen. “I’m going to Bella’s house. I’ll be back later.”  


“Okay. Let me know if your plans change. Drive safely.” She calls the last part out as I’m closing the door.  


Twenty minutes later on the dot, I knock on Bella’s door.  


“I got it!” Bella’s voice is muffled by the door. She smiles when she opens it, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.  


“Raquel! It’s nice to see you again.” Charlie says, coming into the front hallway to see who’s at the door. “Well, Bells, you’re being extra social today.”  


“Hey, Charlie!” I say as I step inside, taking off my shoes. I follow Bella up the stairs, where she flops on her bed. I take a seat in the rocking chair in the corner.  


“What’s up?” I ask. Bella sighs and moves to an upright position.  


“I went to La Push today.” Her voice is quiet. “I ran into an old friend, Jacob Black. He lives on the Quileute reservation. He noticed I wasn’t having a ton of fun, so he suggested we go to this local museum that features local cryptids.” She looks over at me, and I nod in encouragement.  


“We were looking around when I saw some old photographs. And Raquel, I swear to you, that the Cullens were in them. These pictures were from 1936! The only person I didn’t recognize was Mrs. Cullen, and Alice and Jackson weren’t there, but it was them.”  


“Bella,” I begin warily, “isn’t it possible that their family has been around here? Some people look like their great-grandparents. One of my friends back in Virginia was a dead ringer for her great-great-grandmother. It was eerie.” Bella shakes her head.  


“I’d believe that if it was one, but what are the odds of 5 people looking exactly like their family from over 70 years ago?” I’m about to protest when Bella sits up on her knees and waves me off. “That’s not all. We were talking with the guide about it, and she said that the rumor is that the Cullens are vampires.” She whispers the last word.  


“Vampires.” I say dubiously.  


“Yes, but they’re not like other vampires—they don’t drink human blood, only animal.” I nod slowly, but I seriously doubt her theory.  


“There’s one problem with this theory,” I say, Bella nods at me to continue, “vampires don’t exist.”  


“But the pieces fit!” Bella’s beginning to look frazzled and frantic.  


“Okay, before we whip out our tinfoil hats, let’s sleep on it. We can do some research and maybe we can go back to the museum tomorrow, if you want.”  


“Will you stay over? I just feel on edge. You can borrow some of my clothes, and we have a spare toothbrush.” Bella almost begs.  


“Let me call my mom.” I pace Bella’s small room as I make the call. My mom’s ecstatic that I’m making friends and encourages me to stay. I tell Bella the news, and she jumps up from the bed to wrap me in a hug.  


“Thank God. I don’t know if I could sleep in here alone. The stories really freaked me out.” I nod and pat her shoulder, before turning her to face me head-on and fixing her with a serious expression.  


“Tomorrow, we become vampire hunters.”


	5. Curiouser and Curiouser

My eyes flash open. The sky is a dusky gray. I’m out getting the clean sheets down from where they hung all day, air drying in the crisp, fall breeze. The scent of apples wafts towards me, even though the harvest is over. The sickly-sweet smell of the rejected, bruised apples that litter the ground mixed with fresh hay fills my nose, and I begin to hum an old song, absorbed in my chore. 

James Jr. and Linda are inside, working on their schoolwork. The twins have been so excited to learn their multiplication tables, and now they’ve made it a competition to see who can complete them quicker. When I left them, their blond brows were furrowed in concentration, a younger reflection of their father. James will be home from the factory soon. Despite being married for 8 years, I still get a thrill when I think of my husband. It’s when I begin to unclip the sheets that I hear it—the sound of footsteps crunching on the dry leaves that have fallen from the trees. 

The man is tall, and burlier than I’d think possible. I’ve never seen him before, but he’s breathtaking. He’s wearing a white linen shirt, gray suspenders and slacks with scuffed black shoes and a matching gray newsboy cap. His skin is so pale it’s almost translucent, and it glows in the light of the moon beginning its ascent. His eyes, a shade of gold I’d never seen on a human before meet mine, and I’m trapped in place by both fear and awe. His hair is dark, so dark, in fact, that it’s almost black, and his hair has effortless curls any woman would be jealous of. He appears to be almost half my age, but there’s a knowledge in his eyes that goes beyond the twenty-odd years he’s been on this planet. 

The wind picks up again as he approaches me, pulling me towards him, my hair whipping around my face, escaping the carefully arranged curls to become wild tangles. My new outfit, a robin’s egg-blue, knee-length A-line dress, flows with the gales of wind, almost as though I’m but a magnet being drawn to this young, enigmatic man. 

When he gets within earshot, I call out to him. “I always thought Paul Bunyan was a myth.” 

I turn back to folding the white sheets, my face flushing with embarrassment when I realize he hasn’t answered me. I look over my shoulder to see that he’s come much, much closer without me hearing so much as a footstep. I drop the sheet; it flutters to the ground to become a snowy puddle around my feet. 

“What are you—” I’m cut off when he grabs me, gruffly, pulling me flush against him. His eyes meet mine for a split second, long enough for panic to set in. I can’t tell if it’s his skin or my fear that makes it feel as though a thousand knives of biting cold have me locked in place. Struggling, I know, is futile, but I try anyway, desperation awakening the primitive instincts within me. I wiggle my shoulders and attempt to kick my legs, but the only success I have is knocking his hat off, which leads to him gripping me even tighter, to the point I can barely breathe. I close my eyes as the tears begin to leak down my cheeks, resigned to the inevitable, knowing I can’t fight back. 

His mouth doesn’t hesitate, landing open-mouthed on my neck. My eyes pop open, shocked, a sudden gasp leaves my mouth simultaneously. I don’t have time to recoil or struggle when his teeth sink into my skin. I suck in air to try to scream, but no sound comes out. Almost instantaneously, the burning begins, as though someone has set fire to my bloodstream, where it rapidly spreads, unnecessarily paralyzing me further, as though I could get out of his grip before. At that point, I feel him draining my blood out of my body with soft suckling noises. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume he was nuzzling my neck like a lover, his curls soft against my cheek as I fall backwards, my head flopping to the side like a rag doll’s. 

In what I recognize to be my last moments, my thoughts turn to the fact that vampires must be real. This revelation of the validity of a storybook monster comes at the cost of my life, and I can only hope this evil creature leaves my children be. I struggle to breathe, the lack of blood suffocating me and making me dizzy. 

He pulls away, and his expression is horrified, his eyes wide and lips stained with my blood. I reach up with the last of my strength and gently touch his cheek. He’s ice cold, and his skin is soft, yet hard, like a statue covered in silk. 

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is a beautiful baritone, marred only by the guttural anguish he must be feeling. I move my hand to the back of his neck, sluggishly pulling him back down to my face. A sheer testament to my willpower, as the pain is overwhelming. 

With my lips at his ear, I use the last of my strength to whisper, “I forgive you.” 

At the end of the utterance, my lips form the word, but nothing more than a hint of air comes out. My hand drops and my eyes close, the world going black. 

I gasp, feeling as though I’ve been underwater for too long and I’ve just breached the surface, finally able to fill my lungs with oxygen. I’m dripping with sweat, feeling stuffy in the sleeping bag Charlie found for me. I wiggle my body out only to be hit with the frigid cold. I force myself up and go into the bathroom, turning the sink on so a trickle of water falls from the faucet. I scoop some up with my hands and splash it onto my face. The dream felt so vivid—the vampire in the dream had an uncanny resemblance to Emmett. The dream seemed to take place sometime in the 40’s, based on the dress dream me was wearing and my mannerisms. I raise my eyes to look at my reflection. Water drips down from my forehead, and my curls cling to my forehead and cheeks from a mix of water and sweat. I use a spare hand towel to dry my face off before returning to Bella’s room. I check the time on my phone, and 1:20AM blinks back at me from the screen. I want to go back to sleep, but I also want to try to analyze what this dream meant. 

On the one hand, Bella and I were talking about vampires until we went to sleep, so it was probably my brain processing the information—as ludicrous as it may be. But on the other hand, the dream felt too real to be a coincidence like the feeling you get when a memory you forgot you had resurfaces. As much as I want to laugh off the dream as nothing more than my imagination, there’s a sinking feeling in my bones that there’s at least a morsel of truth to it. I sit in Bella’s rocking chair for a bit, looking out the window, allowing my body to cool off and waiting for exhaustion to creep back in. It never does, and I’d never allow myself to admit it, but I feared what I might see when I go back to sleep. I sigh, knowing that no good will come from me forcing myself to stay awake and crawl back into the sleeping bag, curling up on my side, facing away from the window. 

After tossing and turning for what feels like an eternity, but is more likely to be an hour, I finally drift off into a dreamless, restless sleep. I wake up when the sun is streaming in through Bella’s window directly into my eyes. I sit up and stretch, looking to see where Bella is. She isn’t in her bed, so I assume she’s in the bathroom. I get up, unplugging my phone where it’s charging on her bedside table. I check it, no new messages. I breathe a sigh of relief, oddly grateful for the lack of communication. I’m not sure how I’d respond to Emmett right now, worried he’d be able to pick up on my discomfort. 

A few minutes later, Bella returns in a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Is Charlie here?” I ask. 

“Good morning to you, too.” She chuckles. “No, he went fishing. He usually does on the weekends.” 

I head into the bathroom to change into the shirt Bella lent me, a simple gray short-sleeved T-shirt. I decide to rewear my charcoal gray jeans from yesterday, as Bella’s are a little loose on me. I brush my teeth and hair and come out of the bathroom to talk to Bella. I take a seat on her bed while she paces. 

“Where should we start?” I ask. 

“I think it might be better to do research first, before we go back to the museum. I’d like to have information on what we’re dealing with, so we can ask questions later. Bella walks over to her desk where an ancient desktop computer sits and pulls out her chair. 

“Um, Bella? The nineties called, they want their technology back.” I tease. 

“Charlie doesn’t believe in “updating technology unless absolutely necessary.”” She attempts to mimic her father’s voice, making me laugh. I pull my laptop out of my bag. While I begin to 

Google ‘vampires,’ Bella heads downstairs to grab some cereal for us. I’m still sifting through the first page of results—mostly of young adult book series and role-playing games—when she returns, two bowls of corn flakes in one hand and a carton of milk in the other. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want some.” She says, handing me a bowl and offering me the milk. I take it and pour a decent amount in before handing it back to her. 

“I haven’t had much luck. I think we’re going to have to go onto the second page of search results.” I say after taking a bite of cereal. 

“I can look for vampire lore in the Forks area. Maybe that’ll turn up more information closer to what we’re looking for?” Bella begins to boot up her computer. 

On the second page, I find a website called allaboutvampires and click on it. The homepage of the website says “So you found out about vampires, what next?” with links to learn about myths, ways to combat vampires, and to purchase merch. I ask Bella for a piece of paper and begin to make a list of characteristics of vampires, at least according to this site. 

After an hour, Bella throws down her pencil in frustration. 

“I keep hitting a wall. Not all of the pieces fit. There’s tales of vampires living near here for a bit, but then they disappeared. They were pretty reclusive back in the day, so why would they need to leave?” 

“Change of scenery? What did you find? We can compare notes and any similarities we find must be more likely to be true.” Bella turns to face me. 

“Okay, I have unable to come out in the sunlight.” 

“Check.” 

“Aversion to garlic?” 

“Check.” 

“Stake to the heart as a method of execution?” 

“Nope.” Bella crosses it off of her list. 

“Burning in sunlight?” 

“Yup.” 

“Sleeping in coffins?” 

“Go fish.” 

“Burned by holy water or anything religious?” 

“Bingo.” 

“Fangs?” 

“I thought that was a given.” 

“Pale skin? Unable to see their reflection?” 

“Yes and yes.” 

“That’s all I have.” 

“I think we have a pretty good list to work with. We just have to find ways to prove our theory.” _Or disprove it_ , I add mentally. 

“I mean they don’t have fangs. At least, not obviously from what I can tell.” Bella says. I think back to my dream with Emmett, his teeth looked no different than a human’s, perceptibly, at least. 

“Well, we can’t just spray them with holy water or force them to look in a mirror.” Bella sighs, frustrated. 

“No,” I agree, “but we can use garlic. We can make garlic bread. If they eat it, they aren’t vampires, if they run screaming then…” I shrug. Bella’s eyes light up. 

“Raquel, you’re a genius!” She pulls me off of her bed and leads me down the stairs to the kitchen. 

“Is now a good time to mention I’m not much of a cook?” I ask. 

“You’ll be better than Charlie, trust me.” 

Thirty minutes later, the dough is baking in the oven, and the smell of garlic and bread wafts throughout the house. Bella and I sit on the couch together. 

“I think Angela, Jess, and Lauren are planning to go to Port Angeles tomorrow. Are you in?” I ask. 

“Yeah, it’ll give me something to do so I won’t fixate on figuring out if the Cullens are vampires or not.” Bella frowns. 

“You still think they are?” 

“I don’t know what to think. All of the pieces don’t fit together.” 

“Or maybe you’re forcing them together to create a different picture.” I say gently. Bella’s about to respond when the oven goes off, and Bella pulls the garlic knots out, setting them on a baking rack so that they can cool down. 

“Do you want to go for a walk? I need to clear my head.” I nod, grabbing my shoes and following Bella out the back door. 

We walk through the never-ending greenness for a while, drops of rainwater beginning to drip down from the tops of the trees. Bella stops when she finds a fallen tree, unmarked by moss. She takes a seat on the log and lets out a deep breath. 

“I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed that Edward was a traditional vampire, and Jacob and Mike were trying to save me from him. Then a wolf attacked him and I screamed “No!” and woke up.” Bella confesses, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie. I sigh. 

“I had a nightmare, too. I dreamed that Emmett was a vampire. One that killed me. It felt so real, Bella. It was in, like, the 1940’s and it felt like I was there. I didn’t have any control or anything. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was some kind of memory.” Bella’s eyes are wide open by the time I finish. 

“And you _still_ think there’s nothing up with them?” She asks, incredulous. 

“I didn’t say that. I think it’s our brains making sense of the information from that we got during the day.” I shrug, though I feel less confident in my assertion from yesterday. 

“You say that, but you didn’t see the pictures at the museum. Come on, we’re going.” Bella stands up, linking our arms together, making it impossible for me to escape. 

“How can I help you two—oh! You’re back with a new friend!” The man is in his mid-sixties with short gray hair, bifocal reading glasses, and a black cane. 

“Hello again,” Bella says, a small, shy smile on her face, “My friend here didn’t believe me about the vampire exhibit, and I wanted to prove her wrong.” The man laughs. 

“Well, you came to the right place! I’m Ronnie.” He says, extending a hand, which I take. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ronnie. I’m Raquel, and I’m a bit of a skeptic, you could say.” Ronnie laughs as he leads us down the cream-colored hallway, his cane a metronome clicking against the tile. 

“I’m sure we can sway your mind, Raquel, at least a little bit.” He says over his shoulder. He leads us through the halls of the small museum, slowing as we reach a room at the back of the building. 

It’s small and stuffy with no windows. The single lightbulb fills the room with a faint but persistent buzz when Ronnie turns it on. He picks up a box from a stack in the far corner of the room and sets it on the mahogany table in the center of the room. 

“Here’s a bit more evidence than what you saw yesterday, Bella. I think you and your friend will find it far more compelling than the campy things we keep out for the general public. “Just wear some gloves while handling the documents. They are very old, and we don’t want them to get ruined.” He nods towards two pairs of white gloves beside the box. We thank him, pull the gloves on, and get to work. 

“Look at this.” I say, pulling out a document that looks like a notice. It says “Beware of Vampires” and is dated 1937. I show it to Bella, who stifles a laugh. 

“There’s no way that’s legit. It looks like a bad Halloween prop.” We continue sifting through the contents of the box. 

“Aha!” Bella crows, pulling out a photograph. She shows it to me. I take it from her, unable to believe my eyes. 

Covered in a fine layer of dust that I gently wipe off, the photo shows a group of people in the town, celebrating the opening of a long-gone shop. Most of the people are unremarkable, but in the back row, there’s a group of people, spread throughout the row. They look like the Cullens. There are 2 I don’t recognize, but they all share the same chalky pallor, evident even in a photograph and unnatural beauty. My eyes widen and I hold the picture as close as I dare, attempting to make out as much detail as I can. Bella looks at me with a smug expression. 

“Would you like me to say “I told you so” now or later?” I barely register her voice, engrossed in picking apart every aspect of the photo. The one who looks like Emmett, unmistakable in his huge build and rippling muscles, is in clothing not unlike the ones from my dream. All of the family’s expressions eerily remind me of the Cullens’. I study Rosalie’s confident, sultry stare, Edward’s brooding expression, infinite sadness apparent in his face, and Emmett’s easygoing grin. The other two, Carlisle and Esme, I presume, are both just as lovely. Handsome as a movie star, Carlisle’s young, with light hair and eyes matching his adopted children’s. Esme looks like a princess, caramel curls falling around her head in an angelic halo, her heart-shaped face beaming at the camera. My eyes rapidly look from the picture to Bella and back. 

“I know.” She says, taking a sort of glee in my bewilderment. I set the picture carefully back in the box and drop my head into my hands. 

“But how? And what about Alice and Jackson?” I ask, half to myself. 

“That’s one thing I can’t put my finger on, either.” Bella says, leaning back in her chair. 

“It can’t be possible.” I whisper. 

“Aren’t you convinced?” Bella asks. 

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I’m definitely not as certain as I was this morning.” 

After looking through the box and not finding anything of note, we exit the small room and make our way out of the museum, waving goodbye to Ronnie, who’s animatedly telling a pair of tourists about the history of the town. Bella drives back to her house, and I climb in my car to leave when she stops me. 

After dashing into the house, Bella emerges with some of the garlic knots in a plastic container. “You almost forgot them. We can take them tomorrow and cook up a reason to take them over to their table.” I nod, thank her, and drive back home. 

“How was it?” My mom asks, drying her hands on a dish towel. Her hair is in a ponytail, stray strands escaping every which way. 

“Fun, I had a good time.” I say, heading up the stairs. I need some time to think to myself. 

If Emmett and his family are all vampires, would I be okay with that? The very nature of vampires is violent and bloodthirsty, how could I possibly be drawn to that? If it’s true, what does my dream mean? The deeper this rabbit hole goes, the more I think that dream cannot be a coincidence. Could it be a warning? I feel a headache coming on the more my thoughts spiral. One thing is for certain, the Cullens are not quite what they seem.


	6. GNO

Monday, I drag myself out of bed and to school. I barely slept the night before, tossing and turning both mentally and physically. I couldn’t get my brain to stop mulling over all of the information Bella and I uncovered over the weekend. The only saving grace for the day is the sunshine and almost warmth. I’m so grateful that the weather is warmer than almost freezing that I broke out a pair of jean shorts paired with an oatmeal-colored sweatshirt.  


I head over to Bella, who’s sitting on a bench and soaking up the sunshine. Before I can reach her, Mike Newton slides in beside her. I keep walking over to her when I see Mike take a lock of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. I sneak around to Bella’s other side and slide in next to her, a little harder than necessary, nearly knocking Mike off the bench.  


“Well, we could go out to dinner or something… and I could work on it later—whoa!” Mike says, a hopeful smile on his face before he nearly face plants. “Hi, Raquel.”  
Bella looks incredibly uncomfortable with the conversation and I decide to take action.  


“Hey Mike! Are you practicing on Bella for when you ask Jessica out?” I tilt my head innocently.  


“Huh?” He asks, confused.  


“Really, Mike, can’t you see the way she looks at you?” Bella jumps in after shooting me an appreciative smile. “It’s time for class, and I can’t be late again.”  


I walk Bella to English, and we take our seats right as the bell rings. After a long class discussion about the themes of _Macbeth_ filled with awkward silences as no one wanted to contribute, the bell rings. Bella tugs on my sleeve as I get up to leave.  


“They aren’t here today.” She says quietly.  


“Maybe their trip ran long or something.” I shrug.  


“It’s also sunny.” She points out. I sigh.  


“Maybe you should just ask point-blank.” I grumble. Bella glares at me, following me out the door.  


“You just don’t want to admit there’s a possibility I’m right.”  


“Or maybe I’m worried that you’ve lost your marbles.” I retort, crossing my arms.  


“We’ll talk about this later.”  


By later, Bella means lunch, where I confirm that the Cullens are not at their usual table. Bella sits at the end of the table, slightly isolated from our usual company and I join her.  


“I was thinking about it and you were right, I am worried that you’re right. Mostly because if you’re right,” I sigh, “that means I have to confront the idea that everything I know about the ‘real world’ is wrong.”  


“Fair enough. And I think you could be right, that it’s all a set of really strange coincidences. Regardless, it’s strange, right?” I nod.  


“Bella! Raquel! Are we still on for Port Angeles tonight?” Jessica asks, leaning so far forward on the table to see us that she’s practically sprawled on top of it.  


“Yeah, do you mind if I bring my brother along? He’s been wanting to visit Port Angeles. I’m sure there’s something I can find for him to do so he won’t bother us.”  


“Sure! We’re taking Jess’s car, there’ll be plenty of room. I think there’s an arcade near the shop we’re going to, he can hang out in there if he wants.” Angela suggests. I agree and we plan to meet around 3:30pm.  


✧❉✧

  


After I get home, I’m picking out what to wear when my phone rings.  


“You will _not_ believe what happened!” Jessica squeals in my ear.  


“Tell me.” I say, laughing.  


“Mike asked me on a date! I’m so excited. Can we do tomorrow instead for Port Angeles?”  


“Sure, Jess. Have fun!” I smile, happy for Jess. Maybe Mike is catching on to the fact that Bella just isn’t interested in him as more than a friend. After hanging up, I go over to Will’s room and, as per the rules he’s had posted on his door since he was 10, I knock.  


“You may enter!” He calls. I open the door, go inside, and close it behind me. I take a seat on his bed. Will turns to face me from his desk chair, trying to look like he’s in _The Godfather_. The effect is ruined when he tries to spin the chair around, forgetting that he doesn’t have a spinning chair, and has to slide the chair around to face me.  


“So, you know how you wanted me to take you to Port Angeles?” I start. He gives me a look that says, _do you_ really _think I forgot?_  


“Well, I have a few friends that’ll be going out there tomorrow to go shopping, and I asked if I could bring you, and they said yes. What do you say?”  


“I have to go shopping?” He asks, the idea clearly repulsing him. I laugh.  


“No, there’s an arcade nearby you can hang out in. I cleared it with Mom and Dad, they’re willing to give you some money to spend.”  


“Then I’m in. What time are we going?”  


“Jess is picking us up at 5. She’s going to get Bella first, and I’m going to drop my stuff of and possibly change, too. We shouldn’t be out that long, a few hours at most. We’re going to get dinner, too.” Will agrees, and, citing rule #7, kicks me out of his room so he can finish his homework. I ruffle his hair as I walk by.  


Later that night, I get ready for bed and lay down. I took some melatonin so that I won’t have another sleepless night. I quickly feel myself falling asleep, and give myself over to unconsciousness.  


The summer heat is stifling. Even in the evening, after the sun has dipped below the horizon, creating a kaleidoscope of colors in the sky, the temperature barely falls. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead and grab some paper to fan the back of my neck. The stool I’m on is slick with my sweat. My shift hasn’t been busy, so I haven’t had to get up much. I feel almost delirious with the heat. I shouldn’t have let Linda talk me into getting a job at a gas station. It beats being a secretary, sure, but since Mr. Nichols refuses to invest in a working air conditioner, I pay the price. Linda got lucky with the morning shift, before the Georgia heat sets in.  


“I’d like to see her optimism last when she’s burning alive.” I grumble to myself. I’m flipping through a magazine when the little bell above the door dings.  


“I’ll be with you in a minute!” I call, unable to see the customer around one of the displays. I wipe my forehead again before heading to the register. I don’t see the customer, even though I saw him pumping gas at one of the spots out front. I hope he didn’t just drive off, Mr. Nichols will fire me. I walk around the counter and look out the glass window. His car, a modern, fast, green one, sits idle at the first pump.  


I’m moving around, trying to see different angles. Maybe he left his wallet in his car or something. I’m about to turn around when a strong arm hooks around my shoulder and pulls me backwards. I try to find purchase on the linoleum, but my flats just slip as I flounder about. I try to escape the iron grip around me, but I can’t. I beat on the arm, I try to kick the man holding me, but I’m unable to do more than tire myself out. I realize quickly that this won’t end well for me. I stop struggling, a sudden calm taking over my body.  


“If you’re going to kill me, I think it’s only fair I see your face. And that you have to look at mine when you do it.” My voice cracks on the last word, tears spilling out of my eyes. For a split second the arm on my shoulders loosens, and I manage to wiggle free. I elbow the man in the face, but I hear a crack and pain shoots up my arm. I let out a cry and begin to run away. I make it three feet when the arm circles my waist like ivy, dragging me back again. The arm moves up to cup one of my shoulders, his right arm moving to cup my left shoulder, turning me to face him.  


My confidence disappears, all sense of bravery fading out of me like the curl of smoke of a freshly blown out candle. The man is easily one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen in my life, more handsome than movie stars, far from the typical man of this rural Georgia community. My legs turn to jelly, and he keeps me upright, bringing me rest on his chest. His head dips down and—  


“No!” I yell, sitting straight up in my bed. I’m breathing hard, and sweat plasters my pajamas to my body. I grab the glass of water on my bedside table and gulp half of it down. I bend my knees, wrap my arms around them and lay my cheek on top. This dream was just as vivid as the last one, just as eerie and disturbing. It felt like I was in the nineteen sixties, spending my summer vacation working at a job that underpays and overworks. I get up and go to the bathroom, grabbing the bottle of melatonin and looking at the side effects. Beyond the usual dizziness, tiredness, and headaches, it says that some people have reported bizarre dreams while taking it.  


I go back to my bed and try to sleep, but the images of the vampire in my dream repeatedly flash behind my eyelids, like a scratch on a CD that makes it skip. The vampire was Emmett, I was sure of it. I didn’t know anyone else who has such a muscular arm. In this dream, too, I was positive he was about to kill me, until I forced myself to wake up. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but when it does, it’s thankfully dreamless.  


The next day is sunny again, but cooler. I tug on an old red-and-white striped sweater, jeans, and sneakers. Mr. Mason reminds us all in English that our paper is due tomorrow, and that we should be sure to begin reading _The Great Gatsby_ and be ready to discuss it by next class. Maybe I can find a bookstore in Port Angeles to buy it.  


At lunch, Lauren announced she couldn’t come due to “other obligations.” Bella tries to hide it, but she looks pleased. I can see why, Lauren hasn’t been the kindest or most welcoming to her. I glance across the room only to be struck with disappointment and a smidge of relief; the Cullens aren’t here today.  


“Hopefully, they come back soon.” I murmur to Bella. “I don’t want the garlic bread to go to waste.” Bella slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.  


“You still have some? Charlie got into my supply, and I’m out.” I chuckle.  


“I’ve had it hidden. My room may or may not smell like an Olive Garden right now.”  


✧❉✧

  


Will dives into the car before I’ve even made a full stop, earning us a glare from the teacher on pick-up duty. I give a sheepish smile before driving off after Will fastens his seat belt.  


“I take it you don’t want to go?” I ask, faking a sad demeanor. Will looks at me with shock until he realizes I’m teasing him.  


“Ha ha, very funny Quel.” He grumbles.  


At home, Will runs up to his room to set his stuff down and grab the twenty dollars my parents gave him for tonight. I’m about to head up to my room to change when my mom stops me.  


“Would you and Will be okay if your father and I went out for a date night? We won’t go far.” She seems nervous, as though anticipating me having an emotional breakdown. Past experience grants her that reaction. I smile.  


“We’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll be with my friends for most of the evening.” I make my escape to my room, to find a small, brown package on my bed. It’s wrapped with twine, and has my name written on it. I set down my bag and pick up the package, pulling one side of the string to free the box.  
Inside is a scrap of paper that has “I’m sorry” written on it. Nestled in the folds of copious amounts of newspaper is a small snow globe, about the size of my palm. The inside is a miniature sign that says “Welcome to Forks,” matching the one at the town’s limits, white lettering on weathered green wood. I shake it and watch the small snowflakes fall down. I wonder who this could be from. Could it be from Emmett, as an apology for going MIA? From my parents, apologizing for the move, even if it was necessary? I put it on my dresser, and change into something a little nicer.  


I pull on a cream turtleneck and a jean miniskirt, and I tie a black scarf with blue and purple flowers around my neck. I grab a pair of black boots that have a small, thick heel. I run a brush through my hair and grab Will just as Jess pulls up to the house and honks her horn. I call out a goodbye to my parents, locking the front door behind me, and toss my keys in my purse. Will has already scampered into the backseat beside Angela, and I crawled in after him. It was cramped, but not unbearable.  


Jess spent the ride playing rock songs and chattering about all of the boys we hung out with. When she started talking about how she hoped she and Mike were progressing to the first kiss stage, Will looked horrified.  


He leans over to me and whispers, terrified. “There are stages?”  


I stifle my laugh and whisper back. “I’m not paid enough to answer that. Ask mom or dad. Or google if you have to.” He nods, placated by my answer.  


“Raquel, what’s the deal with you and Emmett?” Jess asks, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.  


“Yeah, Raquel, who’s Emmett?” Will asks, slipping back into his “annoying younger brother” role.  


“We’re friends. That’s all.” I say, giving both Jess and Will a stern look.  


“But you want to be more, right?” Jess questions. Will looks like he’s having a field day with all of the blackmail material Jessica is openly dropping into his greedy little hands.  


“I don’t think he sees me like that. Weren’t you the one who said he was with Rosalie, anyway?”  


“You never know. You two would be a cute couple.” Angela adds.  


“She told our dad there were no boys in her life.” Will says with a sly look in my direction.  


“He meant romantically, Will. Emmett is a friend. We’re working on a project together.” I tell him.  


“Then you won’t mind if I tell Dad.” I groan, my father is the poster child of overprotective fathers.  


“And you won’t mind if I tell him about the shaving cream incident.” Will glares at me.  


“Fine. Truce?” He offers a hand. I awkwardly reach around to shake it. The girls laugh at the whole exchange.  


Once Jess parks in Port Angeles, I walk with Will to the arcade. It’s right next to the boutique we’re going to be looking in.  


“I’ll be back to get you in,” I check the time on my phone, “about an hour for dinner. Please don’t ruin your appetite with cardboard flavored pizza.” Will agrees and runs off, eager to play as many games as possible. I rejoin Bella, who’s helping Angela and Jessica pick out dresses.  


“Semiformal? What does that even mean?” Jessica moans. None of us have even the slightest clue. Bella states she’s never even been to a dance, and Angela and Jess look at her in disbelief.  


“Not even with, like, a boyfriend?” Jess asks.  


“Nope.”  


“Why not?” Jess demands. Bella shrugs.  


“No one ever asked me.”  


“People ask you out here,” Jess points out, “but you tell them no.”  


“Except Tyler.” Angela adds softly.  


“Excuse me,” Bella gasps, “what did you say?”  


“Tyler told everyone he’s taking you to prom.” Jessica says, suspicion coating her tone.  


“He said what?” Bella sputters.  


“Breathe, Bella.” I say, as she’s beginning to turn a little bit purple.  


“I told you it wasn’t true.” Angela mutters to Jess.  


“That’s why Lauren doesn’t like you.” Jess informs Bella. Bella begins flipping through the racks, sliding the hangers across the metal with more force than necessary.  


“Do you think,” she begins, her teeth gritted, “if I were to run him over with my truck he’d give up on trying to make amends?”  


“Assuming that’s why he’s doing it, maybe.” Jess giggles, taking pleasure in Bella’s visceral reaction.  


After picking through the meager dress selection, Jess and Angela head into the dressing rooms. I take a seat beside Bella on a low bench, waiting for the two of them to emerge.  


“Are you sure you don’t want to take me up on my offer to put myself in a near-death situation to get Tyler off your back?”  


“It’s tempting.” Bella mutters. I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. Before our conversation can continue, Jess and Angela step out of the dressing rooms.  


Jess chose a blue, sleeveless dress that made her eyes and figure pop and Angela ended up picking a pale pink one that wrapped around her tall frame, making her look like a goddess. Bella and I return the rejected dresses to the racks, and when we return Jess and Angela have moved on to trying to find shoes and accessories. I follow Jess to help her pick out some jewelry to go with the silver pair of heels she’s chosen. After picking out a few inexpensive pieces, we rejoin Angela and Bella, Jess showing off the rhinestone jewelry.  


We finish shopping much earlier than expected, and Angela and Jess want to go walk on the beach. Bella wants to find a book store, so we split up and go to look for one.  


“I think I saw one on our way in.” Bella says with confidence, so I let her lead. When we reach the bookstore, even before we go in, we’re hit with the smell of strong incense, sweet but strong. 

Crystals line the window, and dreamcatchers hang in the doorway. The older woman inside smiles in invitation, but Bella tugs me away.  


“I doubt they’d have _The Great Gatsby_ in there.” I say as we wander away.  


“They’ve gotta have another bookstore around here.” Bella says, half under her breath. We find a couple of shops that look like they could be bookshops, but upon closer inspection are duds. 

We keep heading what I think is south, but I’m not sure. We keep a companionable silence between us. After a few more turns around a street corner, Bella stops suddenly.  


“Please tell me you’ve been keeping track of where we’re going.” She says, and I realize that we’re completely alone, save for a few men a couple of blocks away, leaning against a wall.  


“I could, but I think we both know I’d be lying.” My eyes lock on the men, my guard up immediately. We continue walking, planning to circle around and check another street. We have to go towards the men, and I grab onto Bella’s arm, even though I know she wouldn’t abandon me. We move to the far left of the sidewalk, giving them room to pass.  


“Hey there!” One of them calls, turning back to face us and walk backwards. The heavyset, dark-haired man, wearing a flannel open over a t-shirt, cut-off jeans with splashes of mud on them, and work boots waves at us, as if to make it clear he was speaking to us.  


“Hello,” Bella mumbles before turning back around.  


“What are you doing?” I hiss, as we begin to walk faster, the men’s laughter echoing behind us.  


“Hey wait!” Another one calls, but we thankfully turn the corner away from them.  


The street is undeveloped, with chain link fences and unpainted building projects sitting abandoned. The sky darkens further, and a white van drives past. The silence following the van’s engine revving is deafening. Bella looks back and stiffens before tugging me even faster.  


“Two of them are behind us.” She whispers. I look back and confirm that two members of the motley crew of miscreants are pursuing us leisurely, like lions that know that their prey can’t escape.  


As we reach the corner, Bella looks back and seems to relax a bit.  


“They’re farther back now.” As we turn the corner, I see why. The other two men are midway down the street, blocking our way back to safety and civilization. Bella and I are rooted to the spot, and I feel panic starting to creep in. Bella drags me across the street, but it’s no use. The footsteps follow us like an inky shadow, a warning of danger lurking all around us.  


“There you are!” The ringleader shouts.  


“Yeah,” One of the ones behind us calls, “we just took a detour!” Bella and I continue hurrying down the street. She slows as the realization dawns on her and me simultaneously, we’re trapped.  


Bella sucks in a breath as if to prep for a scream and takes her purse off of her arm, ready to use it as a whip if need be. The heaviest man scrapes himself off of the wall and begins to approach us.  


“Stay away from us.” Bella says.  


“C’mon, sugar, don’t be like that.” He says, not slowing his approach. My brain begins to recall all of the self-defense classes I took before we left. I brace my feet on the ground and begin to raise my hands.  


“Look at that, fellas. We got ourselves a fighter.” One of them says.  


“You know I like them feisty. Makes it more fun.” The leader says, smirking at me. I sense one of them moving behind me to grab me, and I swing an elbow back, making contact with the man’s face. He grunts in pain, but backs off.  


“That wasn’t very nice, baby.” The first guy says, coming towards me. Another guy moves to grab me again, and I’m so overwhelmed by multiple attackers that he manages to get a grip on me. I begin struggling as hard as I can. The main guy throws a punch at my face, pain blossoming across my temple. My face snaps to the right and the taste of coppery blood and fear mix to make a cocktail of horror in my mouth. I fall out of the man’s grip, hitting my head on the wall when he flings me around and land curled up on the ground. I cover my head with my hands, feeling blood seep onto my sleeves from above my right eyebrow. A vicious kick to my right side makes me yelp in pain. The repeated kicks from all angles begin to make me feel faint, so much so that I think I’m hallucinating when I see the headlights and hear the unmistakable voice of Edward Cullen through the open door of the Volvo.  


“Get in.” He commands, and Bella helps me up before opening the back door, which I dive into.


	7. The Doctor is In

The car remained dark, none of the lights turned on. Edward fishtailed the car around, gunning the engine straight towards the men, forcing them to practically dive away, as Edward showed no signs of slowing, stopping, or swerving to avoid them. 

“Seatbelts. Both of you.” He says, fury coating his tone. I force myself upright and click the belt into place, I hear Bella’s click right after. Edward reaches over and opens the glove compartment, rummaging around until he finds an old, white handkerchief. 

“Here, Raquel. Try to stop the bleeding.” He hands it to me. I begin to protest, but he just waves it at me, annoyed. 

He takes a left and passes several stop signs without obeying them. I can’t make out his expression well, he just looks like a specter to me, ghostly pale against the dark interior and exterior. 

“Are you alright?” Bella asks, so quietly I can barely hear her. 

“No.” His answer is short and angry. I press the handkerchief into my forehead, surprised at how slick it is. The blood doesn’t show any sign of stopping. After a few minutes, Edward stops the car suddenly. 

“Bella, Raquel, are you two alright?” He asks, barely controlling the rage evident in waves rolling off of him. 

“Yes,” Bella’s voice is hoarse. 

“Considering I kind of feel like I’m bleeding out here on your backseat, I think it’s safe to say I’m not doing too hot.” Edward laughs, but there’s no humor in it. 

“Do you want to go to a hospital? Or I can have Emmett come pick you up and take you to Carlisle, if you’d prefer.” I mull it over for a minute. 

“I think if I go to a hospital, my parents will get unnecessarily freaked out. They didn’t want to even let me go out tonight, and I’d rather not spend the rest of my days on house arrest.” I reply. Edward nods as if he’d figured as much and pulls out his cell phone. Pressing a single number, I can hear it ring once before I can hear the baritone of Emmett’s voice come through. 

“Emmett. Raquel got attacked by some men in Port Angeles,” he pauses, waiting for Emmett to stop chewing him out. I can’t make out what Emmett is saying, but it’s clear he isn’t pleased. 

“She’s fine, but she’d rather not go to the hospital. Can you come get her and take her to Carlisle?” Edward looks at me—no, my forehead, and says a curt “yes” into the phone. Emmett must agree because Edward lets out a breathy “thank you” and hangs up. 

“He’ll be here soon. He was already in the area.” Edward informs me. He still looks pissed. 

“Bella, can you distract me?” He asks, his hands restlessly tapping on the steering wheel. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Bella asks, still stunned by the whole ordeal. 

“Just prattle on about something unimportant until I calm down.” Bella tells him about her plan to hit Tyler with her car, and I begin to zone out. I pull the handkerchief away from my forehead, but Edward swiftly turns around and makes my hand press it back onto it. 

“It hasn’t stopped. You’ll probably need stitches.” He informs me. 

“And where did you get your medical degree from?” I ask, unhappy that stitches may be involved. 

“When your father is a doctor, you learn a lot. Especially on ‘bring your child to work days.’” About ten minutes later, Edward hops out of the driver’s seat and comes around to open my door, taking my elbow to help me up. I can feel the chill of his hand through my turtleneck, and I fight to keep myself calm. Just because Emmett had cold skin in my dreams does not mean that the Cullens are vampires. There could be plenty of other explanations. Emmett hops out of a cherry red Jeep with surprising grace. He walks swiftly over to Edward and turns my shoulders so I’m facing him, his eyes scanning me from head to toe, lingering on my hand holding the rag to my forehead. He’s wearing a thick black jacket over a gray shirt and jeans. After I pass his wordless assessment, he gently takes hold of my wrist, his grip loose. He wordlessly pulls me back to the car, opens the passenger side door, picks me up, and sets me on the seat, all in a few fluid motions. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, his eyes scanning over me again, checking for injuries and lingering on my forehead and the bloody rag a second time. He shuts the door and returns to where Edward is leaning against the Volvo. He talks to his brother animatedly, arms waving, though I have no clue why he would be so riled up about the situation. Edward nods towards the Jeep, and Emmett pivots and climbs into the driver’s seat, ever so graceful. He starts the car and pulls out onto the road, driving much too fast to be going the speed limit. 

We drive in silence for a bit, until I gasp. 

“Stop the car!” Emmett takes this a little too seriously, throwing the car into park immediately, causing my head to slam forward. I would’ve hit the dashboard if he hadn’t thrown an arm out to stop me from bashing my head further. 

“What?” He asks, voice harsh, eyes scanning the outside of the car, as though he expects the men to be back, seeking their revenge. 

“I forgot my brother.” I say sheepishly, rubbing my arm with my free hand. Emmett turns to look at me, incredulous, then he surprises me by letting out a booming laugh that fills the Jeep. He pulls a very illegal U-turn and drives back to Port Angeles, much too fast. 

“Where is he?” He asks, and I wordlessly point to the small arcade. He parks, and when I go to take off my seatbelt, he uses a large hand to cover mine and effectively stop me. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, brows furrowed. 

“To get my brother,” I say, the word ‘duh’ rendered unnecessary by my tone. “There’s no way he’ll let you take him. Our parents took ‘stranger danger’ to the extreme. He’ll scream bloody murder before he cooperates with you. It’s better he sees me, blood and all.” Emmett removes his hand and allows me to get out. I go into the arcade, Emmett following behind me. I spot Will’s brown, unruly waves bouncing across the room, at the DDR station. I weave around boisterous children and parents looking at me strange thanks to the fact that I look like I got into a street fight. 

“Will? Sorry I’m late, but we need to go now.” I say once I reach him, loud enough that he can hear me over the techno music. 

“Hang on, Quel, I’m about to beat my high score.” His feet are moving furiously across the various arrows. After a minute, he wipes the sweat from his brow and turns to face me. 

“Holy cow Raquel! What happened? And who are _you_?” He asks, crossing his arms and squaring himself to face Emmett head-on. He looks like a kitten facing off against a fully-grown lion, and I put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m fine, we’re just going to go to Dr. Cullen’s house and he’s going to check me out. This is Emmett—one of Dr. Cullen’s sons.” Will’s eyes flash in recognition. He scans Emmett up and down, like a high-tech machine in a futuristic science-fiction movie. 

“Nice to meet you, kid. How about we go make sure your sister is okay?” Will looks from me to Emmett and back, pondering this new development. Then he shrugs and motions at me and Emmett to lead the way. Will clings onto my arm, sending a clear message to Emmett that I’m _his_ sister above all else. 

Back in the Jeep, Will keeps up a constant chattering about the games at the arcade and fishes for information about what happened to me. I tell him that I fell, and he swallows the lie easily. Emmett looks at me quizzically. I shake my head. There’s no reason to worry him more. Emmett keeps bantering with him, easygoing no matter what. 

Emmett suddenly turns left onto a hidden driveway, winding around the abundant forest. The house he stops in front of is old-fashioned, white, and huge. Despite its grandeur, it’s still quaint. There are cedars all throughout the yard, offering plenty of shade in the daytime. He hops out of the car, helps Will out, then picks me up and begins to carry me. 

“I can walk, you know.” Despite my protest, I wind my arms around his neck, though I’m barely jostled at all. 

“You could, but if you fall then Carlisle will insist on taking you to the hospital. Better safe than sorry, right?” He grins down at me, his teeth a pearly flash in the dark. He quickly bounds up the few porch steps in one step and shifting me into one of his humongous arms, unlocks and opens the front door with his now free hand. 

“Daddy-o!” Emmett calls out as the three of us enter the house, his voice almost echoing in the large space, sounding like church bells. The inside is modern, with all white furniture and a grand piano on a raised platform to the left. There are no walls between the living room, dining room, and kitchen, creating an incredibly open lower floor. The back wall is solely glass, which I find reassuring, if they were vampires why would they expose themselves to the sunlight? Granted it doesn’t happen that often in Forks, but the rare sunny day does still occur. 

An incredibly handsome young man appears at the top of the stairs. He looks like a movie star, golden locks and symmetrical features that look chiseled from stone. His eyes are the same topaz shade as the rest of them, and he looks much too similar to the picture Bella and I saw for it to be a coincidence. This must be Carlisle. 

“Emmett,” He says sternly, “we’ve talked about this.” 

“Yeah, but you still respond to it.” Emmett laughs, unbothered, though I know his arms must be getting tired supporting my weight. I glance at his flexed muscles. Then again, maybe not. 

“That’s because I know it will only get worse if I don’t,” Carlisle sighs before turning to me. He pauses for a moment, like he recognizes me but can’t quite place where he knows me from. “And who might this be?” 

“I’m Raquel Lewis, Dr. Cullen, and this is my brother, Will. I’m sorry for disturbing you when you’re not on the clock.” I say, trying to get Emmett to let me down. He doesn’t. 

“So you’re Raquel! Emmett and Edward talk about you a lot. It’s nice to finally meet you; although, I wish it were under different circumstances. And it’s nice to meet you as well, Will. Please, call me Carlisle. I am off the clock as you said.” The doctor holds out a hand to my brother, who shakes it, shock evident on his young features. “Let’s take this into my office.” 

I try to squirm out of Emmett’s grip, but he just looks amused. 

“Are you that uncomfortable?” He asks. 

“Only because I can walk on my own.” 

“But otherwise you’re happy?” He’s smug at my admission. I glare at him. 

“That’s not what I meant.” But despite my annoyance, a small smile makes its way onto my face. After carrying me up the stairs into a room on the second floor, Emmett finally sets me down on a small chestnut-colored desk that Carlisle cleared off to double as an examination table in the back corner of the room. The room itself is a study, with a wall dedicated to bookshelves on a variety of subjects from the titles I can see. 

“Thank you, Emmett. You can go now.” Carlisle says, grabbing a first-aid kit from the other side of the room. 

“I’ll stay. Raquel might need the emotional support.” I shoot him a look, but he just grins. 

Carlisle’s hands are just as cold as Emmett’s and Edwards as he gently probes at the gash on my forehead. Internally, I’m thinking about how if the Cullens were vampires, there’d be no way for Carlisle to have no problem being so close to me, when I’m bleeding. Or that it would even be possible for Emmett to be alone in the car with me when I was bleeding even more than now. 

“You’re going to need a couple of stitches for that nasty cut,” He says, half to himself as he continues checking me over, snapping me out of my thoughts. Emmett leans against the wall by the door, arms crossed, eyes intently watching me. 

“Where are Alice and Jackson?” He asks, with emphasis on the latter’s name. 

“Out. Alice decided to have a… surprise date night, of sorts.” Emmett nods, though his father can’t see him. Their conversation is innocuous enough, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more that’s being said that I just can’t pick up on. While Carlisle moves to taking care of a few smaller scrapes I hadn’t even noticed, a knock at the door makes me jump. Emmett opens it, and a small brunette sticks her head in. She’s a dead ringer for the woman in the photograph, from her caramel curls falling perfectly around her face to the softer, less chiseled shape of her body. The only difference is her smile, wide and warm, bringing a brightness to her pale face. 

“I thought I heard voices. Can I offer you a snack?” She asks, motherly kindness in her tone. 

“I’m fine, but Will must be starving.” I gesture to my brother, whose eyes dart between me and the woman. 

“It’s fine, Will.” I say, waving him to go with her. 

“Yeah, I’ll hold her hand if she needs it.” Emmett adds, winking at me. I roll my eyes. Will shoots me one last glance before following Esme out. 

As their footsteps fade I hear her say, “I think we might have some cookies. Do you like cookies?” but I don’t hear his answer. 

Satisfied with my minor injuries, Carlisle moves up to deal with the big one. Emmett comes over to me, carefully stepping around the doctor, and leans against the desk. While Carlisle takes out some thread and a needle, Emmett nudges me with a giant shoulder, nearly knocking me off. I look up at him, raising my eyebrows, though he can only see one of them, and he wordlessly holds out his hand. I hesitate for a moment, but when the sting from the alcohol wipe Carlisle uses makes me suck in a sharp breath, I grab ahold of his hand. 

“Squeeze as tight as you want.” He says, the ghost of a smile still on his face despite the concern in his eyes. It’s almost as though he’s the one in pain, not me. 

“I’ll try not to cut your circulation off.” I grumble, and I can feel his shoulders shake with his silent laughter. I squeeze my eyes shut when Carlisle tells me to brace myself. 

Carlisle is efficient, stitching me up with precision. He’s so good, I barely feel the needle passing through my skin. Emmett squeezes my hand, and I open my eyes. Carlisle is cleaning off his tools with alcohol. 

“You’ll be fine, Raquel. The stitches will come out on their own. If it gets red or puffy and painful, come see me at the hospital. We don’t want it to get infected.” I thank the doctor and hop off of the desk. I walk to the door, Emmett shadowing me. Once in the hallway, he moves to scoop me up again. I manage to dodge, stepping back from him quickly. 

“I can walk, remember?” 

“And you were comfortable, remember?” He mimics me, a grin plastered on his face, golden eyes shining. 

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, scrutinizing his expression. He abruptly becomes semi-serious. 

“Teasing you? Or carrying you around?” 

“Helping me,” I clarify. “You didn’t have to. I could’ve gone to the regular hospital. You didn’t have to come get me.” 

He shrugs. “Can’t have your help on the Spanish project if you’re in a hospital, or worse.” 

I roll my eyes. “I still haven’t fully forgiven you for abandoning me to work on it on my own. Is that why you wanted to work with me?” 

“No,” He answers simply, not expanding on his answer, “but I do feel bad about that. How about I make it up to you? We can work on it Saturday, if you’d like.” 

“The day of the dance?” I ask, dubious. I begin to descend down the stairs, holding onto the smooth railing 

“Yeah, I heard you telling Ben Cheney that you weren’t going. Unless you were trying to make him jealous?” Emmett raises an eyebrow when I stop and turn to look at him. 

“No, I’m not going, but I don’t think your girlfriend would like you hanging around another girl, especially on the night of a dance.” I’ve reached the bottom of the stairs and turn back again to watch his reaction. 

“Girlfriend?” He asks, genuinely confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, as if trying to crack a difficult code without a key. 

“Rosalie?” I prompt, somewhat surprised he didn’t know exactly who I was referring to. He bursts out laughing 

“You think Rosalie and I are… together?” He manages to get out between guffaws. I feel my cheeks heating up and turning pink. 

“You aren’t?” I ask, trying to cover my blush with indignance. 

“Naw. Rose and I are very close. She’s my best friend. We have been since she saved my life a while ago. That sort of situation makes any two people form a bond.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “Maybe we created one tonight.” 

My blush goes from a whisper of pink to a full-on flush, the blood seeming to pool in my face. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I’m pleased that he’s not dating anyone. Not that that means he wants to date me, but it gives the teeny tiny crush I’ve buried deep in the soil of my heart enough fuel to sprout. 

“So, are we on for Saturday?” He asks. 

“Yes.” I say, as we walk towards the kitchen, where Will and Esme are chatting while he scarfs down cookies. 

“Great. It’s a date.” I turn to gawk at him, surprised and embarrassed, but he’s just grinning from ear to ear, entertained by my embarrassment. 

“C’mon, Will. Time to go. Mom and Dad will kill me if I don’t have you home soon.” I say, ruffling his hair before turning to the one Cullen I don’t know. “Thank you for feeding him. I don’t think he’d like it if I tried to cook dinner for him. Last time I nearly burned the house down.” She smiles. 

“It’s no problem, Raquel. I don’t think we’ve had a proper introduction. I’m Esme, Carlisle’s wife, and the aunt of Jackson and Rosalie.” She rises elegantly and approaches me, gently taking my hand in both of her chilled ones. I doubt the matching temperature of their skin is due to the house, which is warm and toasty at the moment, not drafty, like one would expect. 

“I’d say I’m Raquel, but you already knew that.” Esme’s laugh is like the sound of wind chimes echoing on the breeze of a sunny day. 

“I heard you introduce yourself to my husband. And of course, Emmett has mentioned you a few times.” She looks over my head to grin at her adopted son before looking back into my eyes. “You are more than welcome here. Please come back soon, we’d love for you to visit.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Her smile is wondrous, making her already youthful appearance look even younger. She gently gives me and Will a hug before sending us on our way. Emmett leads the way out to where he parked the Jeep, giving Will a boost up into the back before offering me a hand to help me up and in. 

We’re quiet except for the hum of the Jeep’s engine. The blinking clock says it’s just after 7:30, so I won’t have to explain what happened to my parents yet. Hopefully, I can come up with an excuse or find a way to hide what happened so as to prevent them from freaking out and moving us to Antarctica. I give Emmett directions, which he follows. Once in my driveway, Will hops out and scampers to the front door, amped up with sugar and adrenaline. I turn to thank Emmett and find him much closer than I anticipated. I move my head back in shock, images from my dreams sounding alarm bells off in my head, but all he does is unhook my belt for me. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, sparing me one last smile, the tightness in his eyes softening when I smile back. 

“You’d better be there, or I might just take your name off of the project.” I threaten half-heartedly. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He says, and I head out of the Jeep to the front door of the house. 

I unlock the front door and let Will in, then turn and wave at the Jeep before going into the house myself. Emmett honks the horn once before backing out of the driveway, the sound of the engine fading into the night.


	8. Give It to Me Straight

The next morning, as I brush my teeth, I ponder what to tell my parents about last night. I tried to cover the stitches with my hair, but besides looking like I’m trying to relive my want-to-be-emo-but-my-mom-won’t-let-me-dye-my-hair-so-I’ll-settle-for-straightening-it-and-making-a-fringe-myself-instead phase from middle school, there’s no way for me to feasibly hide it for a few weeks, or however long it’ll take the stitches to dissolve on their own. I brace myself and head downstairs. 

“Oh, honey, are you alright?” My mom asks, wrapping her arms around me and examining the stitched up gash. “Will told us you had a fall while you were out. I warned you those heels were death traps.” Thank the Lord for my little brother. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I just feel bad that I didn’t get to take Will out to dinner because I needed to get stitches.” I shrug. 

“He’s not upset with you! He said he had a nice time with Mrs. Cullen, eating cookies with her. How lucky that you’re friends with one of the doctor’s sons. Why didn’t you mention it?” Her head is tilted in feigned innocence, ready to pounce on any morsel of information I offer her. Oh no. Abort mission. 

“Y’know, Mom, I gotta go. School, remember?” I say, slyly removing her arm from my shoulders and rushing out the front door. 

When I pull up to the school, the Cullens except Edward are gathered around a red convertible. I hop out of my car, and Emmett heads over to me. 

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece.” He grins. “Did your parents give you a lot of grief over what happened?” 

I lean against the driver’s side door. “Will handled it, so I’m in the clear. What’s with the new car?” 

“Edward abandoned us to bring Bella to school, so we took Rosalie’s car. She doesn’t like to show it off because as you can see, it draws a lot of… unwanted attention.” He’s right, many upperclassmen boys, and even a few girls are gawking at the glossy red vehicle. 

“Edward brought Bella to school?” I ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, she forgot her jacket in Jessica’s car and Edward was worried she’d freeze or that last night shook her up too much.” A look of disappointment must cross my face because he adds, “I’d have offered to drive you, too, but I assumed your “I can walk” policy extended to your driving abilities.” 

I smile. “It does. Plus I wouldn’t want to add to the carbon footprint of this town.” 

As if on cue, the Volvo swerves into the parking lot, expertly parking alongside the convertible. I watch Edward and Bella get out of the car and head towards the buildings. 

“You want me to walk you to your class?” Emmett offers, following my gaze to his brother. 

“How about I walk you to your class?” I ask, and he laughs. 

“Sure. Come along.” I walked alongside him until he stopped suddenly. 

“This is it.” Emmett is still smiling. I smile back. 

“I’ll see you later.” I say, turning to go. 

“Wait. Do you wanna work on the project after school today?” His eyes are hopeful, though he tries to hide it. 

“Sure. I have to get Will, but I can drive you to my house, if that works for you?” 

“It does. Bye, Raquel.” His excitement is noticeable in his voice. I turn and head towards the English building, feeling his eyes on me until I’m out of sight. 

✧❉✧  


I’m one of the last ones to arrive at lunch, and one of the first things I notice is Edward and Bella sitting together apart from everyone else.  


_There goes my moral support._ I think to myself. I take a seat next to Jessica and pull out the container with the garlic knots in it. Jess starts to reach for one, and I smack her hand away.  


“These are for the Cullens as a thank-you. Edward and Emmett helped me yesterday. I fell down and got a bad cut, Emmett came and got me and took me to see his dad.” I say, and Jessica’s mouth falls open.  


“You got stitched up by the dreamiest doctor in town?” She whisper shrieks.  


“He can stitch me up anytime.” Angela says, fanning her face as though she’s about to swoon.  


“What did Emmett do?” Jess asks, her eyes hungry to dissect his behavior.  


“He just took me to his house and then to mine.” Jess practically deflates with my blasé answer. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I say, taking the container and standing up. While this is a thank you, it also has the ulterior motive of proving or disproving, I force myself to add, that the Cullens are vampires. I’m suddenly nervous, palms sweaty. I take a deep breath, I’m sure if they’re vampires they’d be able to smell my fear. I turn and make my way over to the Cullen table, with one chair unoccupied. I glance at Edward out of the corner of my eye, but he just looks amused. Maybe they aren’t vampires after all.  


I close the gap so that I’m standing right behind Edward’s usual chair. Alice smiles up at me, her inky hair fashionably disheveled. Jackson looks like he wants to puke and avoids all eye contact with me, and Rosalie just looks unimpressed. I’m stunned again at how incredibly attractive they all are, like the cast of a reality show about teenage models and their struggles in high school. I save Emmett for last, his eyes are twinkling and he’s leaning back in his seat, grinning up at me.  


“Hey,” my voice shakes, and I cringe internally before clearing my throat and continuing, “I forgot to mention it earlier, but my mom made these for your family as a thank-you for last night.” I set the container on the table.  


“Thanks, Raquel.” Emmett says, unruffled by the sudden presence of garlic, “we’ll enjoy these. Thank your mom for us, would you?” I nod and turn to go back to the table, where most of my friends are balking at me.  


Time to observe. I think to myself once I get back to my seat. I keep an eye on the Cullen table, just to see Emmett open the container, pull out some bread, and begin eating it, no sign of disgust or revulsion on his face.  


“I can’t believe you had the courage to go over there!” Jess whisper yells, pulling on my arm.  


“Maybe if you actually tried talking to them, you wouldn’t be so intimidated by them.”  


“Or maybe you have magical powers. Or,” Her eyes take on a coy glint, “maybe you and Emmett are closer than you say.” I give her a look that says get real.  


“I mean, first Bella and Edward and now you and Emmett,” Jess turns to Angela, “Looks like it’s going to be me and you as the sole powerful, single women at this table.”  


“Is that so, Miss Can-we-reschedule-I’m-going-on-a-date-with-Mike?” I raise an eyebrow while Angela laughs.  


“Point taken.”  


✧❉✧  


After Spanish class finally ends, I lead Emmett out to my car. He goes to take the front seat on the passenger side, but I frown at him across the hood.  


“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.  


“Getting in your car? For a study date before our officially scheduled study date.” He quirks an eyebrow at me. I try to fight the urge to blush, fail miserably, but keep trucking on.  


“No, I mean, why are you getting in the front seat? That’s Will’s seat. You can hop in the back.” Emmett looks surprised, and I smother a laugh.  


“What? Why?” He asks, as though he didn’t hear me right.  


“My car, my rules,” I say as I open the door. I roll down the back passenger window to ask, “are you coming or not?”  


Emmett grumbles but cooperates. When I pick up Will, he seems ecstatic to see Emmett.  


“Hey, Quel, hey Emmett! Why are you here?” My brother twists in his seat.  


“I’m helping your sister with a Spanish project. She really needs it.” He says the last part like he’s conspiring with Will.  


“I sure do, Mr. Estoy-embarazada.” Emmett laughs. Will turns back around.  


I attempt to blow past introductions to my mom, but she has other plans.  


“So, Emmett, how did you two meet?” She sing-songs, using a dishtowel to dry off the counter.  


“We have Spanish together.” Emmett replies, enjoying the look of pure pain on my face.  


“Mom, this isn’t an interrogation. Can we please go work on our project?” She smirks.  


“Of course, sweetie. Keep the door open.” She orders, pointing at me with the dishtowel. I groan before shoving Emmett towards the stairs, desperate to escape. I direct him up the stairs to my room, where he makes the too-big furniture look small.  


“You can sit at the desk.” I offer, not wanting to have the image of Emmett on my bed in my mind. We start working, conjugating verbs and creating the contexts in which we would use the different tenses. My hair is getting longer; it keeps falling in my face.  


“Hang on.” I say, getting up to rummage through a box I still haven’t unpacked. I find an old hairclip I’ve had since I was little, it’s green and has a little bear with a blue bowtie on it. I pin my hair back and turn around to get up off the floor. I’m closer to Emmett than I realized, and I nearly bump into his knee. I start to back up when he raises a hand and gently touches the hairclip.  


“A bear?” He asks, a teasing glint in his eyes.  


“Yeah. Why? You have a problem with bears?” I ask, looking away.  


“No, I like bears. Grizzlies especially.” I look back to see him trying to contain a laugh.  
Soon after, my mom comes upstairs. I fight the urge to drop my face into my hands in anticipation of the embarrassment she’ll cause me.  


“Dinner will be ready soon,” she tells me before turning to Emmett, “would you like to stay with us for dinner?”  


Emmett looks at me, enjoying my discomfort. “As tempting as that is, Mrs. Lewis, I’m going to have to decline. One of my parent’s rules is that we eat together, and I’d hate to anger them.” My mom looks thrilled.  


“Oh, that’s lovely! Maybe we’ll need to implement something like that around here.”  


“I can drive you back, if you’d like.” I offer. Emmett graciously agrees and follows me out to the car.  


“That wasn’t so bad.” He grins.  


“For you!” I say, “You’re lucky my dad was at work. If you thought she asked a lot of questions, that’s nothing compared to my father. He’d ask for your address, phone number, birth certificate, criminal record, and social security number before you even stepped foot in the house.”  


“And we can’t have that.” He mutters, suddenly thoughtful. Emmett helps me with the directions to his house, laughing when I turn the blinker on to the wrong direction. I drive down his driveway, stopping in front of the house where he parked last night. I look over at Emmett, and he’s already staring at me.  


“What?” I ask, worried. I begin to fidget with my hands.  


“You look cute like that.” He nods towards my hairclip. I’m about to thank him when he leans over, lightning quick, and pecks my cheek. I’m pretty sure I short circuit because I’m so frazzled, but he just chuckles and hops lithely out of the car.  


“I’ll see you tomorrow, Raquel.” He says, closing the door. It takes me a second to remember how to drive the car, but when I do, I can’t help the smile that crosses my face.  


Back in my room, I take the opportunity to call Bella.  


“Did you see what happened at lunch today?” I ask the second she picks up.  


“You mean your stunt with the garlic bread? Yes.” Bella sounds amused, like there’s a smile in her voice.  


“See? They can’t be vampires if Emmett had no problem choking down garlic bread.” Bella sighs. “What?” I ask.  


“I—nothing. You should ask Emmett yourself.”  


“Really, Bella? I should just go up to him and ask point-blank, “are you a vampire?”” I can’t believe she’s genuinely suggesting such a thing. Bella hesitates.  


“Trust me, Raquel.” I reluctantly agree, but I genuinely doubt I’ll be able to muster up the courage to confront him.  


✧❉✧  


I’m right. I can’t go through with it. Despite the rain the next day, I tell Jess and Angela that I’m going to go sit outside. I find a bench outside the cafeteria that’s exposed to the elements, but since it’s only sprinkling, I take a seat. I take off my rain jacket and set it down so that I won’t get a giant wet spot on my jeans. Granted, that leaves my clothes exposed, but frankly, the chilly rain doesn’t bother me.  


I’m not sure how much time passes, but the bench creaks with added weight. I look up at Emmett, who wraps his jacket around my shoulders.  


“Don’t you need it?” I ask.  


“Naw. I’m healthy as a horse. Haven’t had even a cold in years.” He grins as though he told a joke.  


“Well, thank you.” I say, wrapping the coat around tighter myself. It smells like him, a sweet scent that I have trouble identifying. The aroma is a delectable mixture of oranges and something woodsy, like the fresh smell of wet earth around a babbling brook. I find myself taking deeper and deeper breaths, wanting to inhale as much of the scent as I can.  


“You usually aren’t so subdued. What’s up?” The rain doesn’t seem to affect Emmett at all, he looks down at me with concern while rain dampens his hair and drips down his beautiful features.  


“It’s just—nothing.” I chicken out yet again.  


“No, really. What’s bothering you?” His eyebrows furrow.  


“Are you a vampire?” I blurt out the words. I silently curse myself out, hating that I just asked him that. Now he’s really going to question my sanity.  


“That depends.” Of all the ways I thought he’d reply, this wasn’t even close to being on my mind.  


“On?” I prompt.  


“If you find it sexy or not.” His grin returns after a moment of contemplation. I roll my eyes and lightly smack his arm.  


“In all seriousness,” he continues, looking at me curiously, “where did that idea come from?”  


“Will you tell me the truth if I tell you?”  


“That depends.” He laughs when I shove him harder.  


“I’m being serious!” I say, laughing despite myself.  


I immediately become serious. “Bella was the one who thought of it. She called me, we did some research online, and then she took me to a museum that she went to with a childhood friend of hers. They specialize in cryptids, and the man working there let us look through his files on vampires.”  


“And all the pieces snapped into place?”  


“No, the opposite actually. Nothing fully made sense. But then, there was a picture at the museum.” I look down at my hands, fidgeting.  


“Let me guess, it was a picture of me with someone else, and they were wearing a shirt that said “I’m with vampire” with an arrow pointing at me.” Despite his cheerfulness, there’s a tightening in his eyes.  


“No. It was a picture of some of the town’s early residents. There were five…” I struggle for the right word, “people that looked uncannily like your family. Although, I hadn’t met Carlisle or Esme at the time. It’s just too much of a coincidence. I was the one trying to convince Bella that it couldn’t be true. And I thought my theory was further confirmed yesterday, but when I called Bella to talk about it, she acted strange. Like she had a major secret. And then she told me to ask you.” I bite my lip, worried that he’s genuinely going to think I’ve lost my marbles.  


“I see.” So few words are unlike him. He rubs a hand over his face, as though trying to wipe away his expression. I quietly begin to remove the jacket when his hands clamp down over mine.  


“What do you think you’re doing?”  


“I figured you’d want me to go. You either think I’ve lost my grip on reality or you hate that I’ve figured out the truth.”  


“I don’t want you to go.” He says, serious for once. I relax a bit.  


“I didn’t want you to find out like this, if at all, to be honest.” He starts. “Frankly, I wouldn’t have told you, but since Edward’s broken the rules, well, so can I. You may have to protect me from Rose, though.” He winks, and I laugh at the idea that I could protect him.  


“But you ate the garlic bread!” My indignance and sense of betrayal is overshadowed by my words.  


“Part of the charade. And I wanted to make you happy.” I’m struck by how sweet the gesture was.  


“You can still digest human food?”  


“No. Let’s just say I did not have fun dealing with it later.” Sweet moment, ruined. At that moment, more people begin to walk by and give us funny looks.  


“I can’t say anymore here, but I’ll tell you more soon. There’s a lot you’ll need to know.” He pats his knees and gets up.  


“Need to know?” I ask, following after him.  


“Sure. You didn’t think that I was going to stop flirting with you just because you know the truth?” I cover up my shock and the thrill that rumbles through me.  


“So I’m not in danger because of what you… are?”  


“That’s something we’ll have to talk about later. My family doesn’t drink from humans, only animals. Accidents do happen, though.” He begins to walk with me towards the gym.  


“Not comforting, Emmett.” I shoot him a semi-serious glare.  


“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” He grins, enjoying my discomfort. Another thought occurs to me at that moment.  


“But I was bleeding in front of you! All of you!”  


“Carlisle’s used to blood, he’s a doctor, remember? He’s been doing it so long he’s almost immune to it. For me, it wasn’t a pleasant experience.” He grimaces in memory.  


“But you held my hand.”  


“I did. I wasn’t the best in terms of control at the beginning of my existence like this. I was worried, but I knew with Carlisle there you wouldn’t be in any danger even if I were to…”  


“Try to drink me like a juice box?” Emmett’s laugh booms so loudly I’m convinced they can hear it across campus.  


“Yes. But I like you too much for that, Raquel.” At this point we’re outside the gym, Emmett leaning against the wall. I scan his face, looking for signs that he’s joking, but when I don’t find a trace of humor on his face, my cheeks heat up, blush becoming prominent.  


“I-I should get to class.” I gesture to the locker rooms. Emmett chuckles.  


“Okay. I’ll see you next period.” He grins, ruffling my hair and walking the other direction. I watch him go, when he turns around about 30 feet away.  


“Quit staring!” I blush harder and hurry into the locker room, actually excited for Spanish class for once.


	9. Backstories

After my initial buzz of finally having the mystery of the Cullens solved wears off, I realize that while my feelings for Emmett have definitely grown, I don’t know very much about him, or rather, his past. He doesn’t know much about mine either, to be fair. This gives me pause. How do I know that he doesn’t just find a human to toy around with every so often? After all, immortality is a long time, it must get boring at points. Is this just me being paranoid because of my past? As I think about all of the new questions I have and the new problems that have arisen due to Emmett’s revelation, I find myself spiraling deeper and deeper into my thoughts. I’m reflecting so deeply that I completely miss all visual and audio cues from Jessica throwing me the basketball. 

The sting of the ball hits my cheek before I can even get my hands up to swat the ball away. As the ball hits the floor I bend over, hands clutching the right side of my face. Coach Clapp comes over to me and Jessica, who is frantically asking if I’m alright and wrapping an arm around me. 

“This is why diligence is important, ladies.” He says around his whistle. Jessica glares at him. 

“It was my fault, she was looking away and I thought she heard me.” I glance up at the coach, who appears to be gauging how badly I’m injured and if it warrants a trip to the nurse. 

“Go up to the office, Raquel. The nurse can give you some ice to help it from swelling too much. You should change and take your things, class is almost over, anyway.” He turns and walks away. 

“Just change,” Jess says, sympathy in her gaze. “I can take your stuff to your next class, it’s on the way to mine anyway.” 

“Thanks, Jess, but you don’t have to do this. It really was my fault, you don’t owe me anything.” 

“I feel so bad. At least let me do this for you.” I can tell Jess won’t quit until I give in, so I accept. After switching into my pedestrian clothes, I make my way to the office, hoping I won’t run into anyone I know. I open the door to the office, and Ms. Cope begins fussing over me, ushering me into the tiny nurse’s office. The nurse, an older woman with graying hair, sticks a bookmark into her book and adjusts her glasses as she looks me over. 

“What happened?” She asks, gesturing me to sit on the translucent paper covering a brown vinyl examination bed-slash-cot. 

“I got hit in the face with a basketball.” 

“Well, whoever did it’s got a very good throw. Was it a boy? I bet he has a crush on you.” She says with a grandmotherly smile, handing me a Ziploc bag filled with ice wrapped with the coarse brown paper towels every school seems to have. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her outdated thinking. I take the bag with a ‘thank you’ and hold it up to my eye. 

“You can lay down if you’d like. You can go back to class when you feel ready, okay?” I make a noise of acknowledgement. 

I continue to lay there, trying to untangle my jumbled up ball of thoughts. I’m not sure how long I’ve been there when I hear a commotion in the main office. I sit up, curious, when the nurse’s office door flies open, hitting the wall behind it. There stands Emmett, blood pouring down his face. The nurse hops up, stammering about going to get some more bandages. She closes the door behind her. Emmett leans against the wall, dropping his hand the moment the nurse is out of sight. 

“Hey, Raquel!” He grins, the red sharply contrasting the alabaster of his skin. The overall result is garish. 

“Hi, Emmett. Are you okay?” I ask, wary. 

“Oh yeah. This isn’t my blood. I don’t have any. It isn’t even blood. Food coloring.” 

“You have food coloring on hand?” I shake my head, refocusing. “Why are you here?” 

“Because you are.” He says like it's the obvious answer. He comes and sits beside me. I scoot over, leaving more space between us. 

“You’re anxious.” He states. 

“How did you know I was up here?” I look up at him. 

“Edward read Jessica’s mind. He told me I owed him so that’ll be fun to deal with later—” 

“Edward can read minds?” I ask, incredulous. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s annoying. Alice can see the future, and they’ll have half mental conversations all the time. It’s frustrating.” Emmett acts as though this is no big deal. 

“You mean to tell me,” my voice is too measured, too calm. “That Edward has been reading my mind since we first met?!” 

“To be fair, he can’t help it. He can try to tune it out but,” Emmett shrugs. 

“I’m going to _kill_ him!” I’m seething at this point. “Your thoughts are supposed to be private!” I get up and begin pacing. Emmett watches me. 

“I’ll hold him down for you.” He offers, trying to lighten the mood. 

I begin to slow down, stopping halfway across the room, facing the opposite wall, remembering why I didn’t go back to class. 

“What?” Emmett asks. 

“What guarantees do I have that you aren’t planning on hurting me?” I don’t hear the crackle of the paper from the exam table, but the hair on the back of my neck stands up, responding to Emmett’s proximity. 

“That’s what this is about?” He sounds genuinely confused. I turn and look up at him, about to respond, when suddenly I’m seated on the exam table again and Emmett’s back at his original position against the wall. The nurse walks in, still flustered. 

“Well, Emmett, it looks like we don’t have any large bandages. Do you want me to call your father?” 

“We can head on down to the hospital. Mrs. Goff won’t mind. And I don’t think I should be driving while gushing blood.” Emmett says smoothly. 

“Raquel, do you feel up to driving?” I nod. 

“It barely hurts now, anyway.” I hand the nurse the lukewarm bag of semi-melted ice and follow Emmett to the parking lot. I climb into my car, and Emmett takes the passenger seat. 

“So you don’t trust that I won’t hurt you?” He phrases it like a question, but there’s an undercurrent of sadness to his words. 

“I don’t trust your motives.” I say neutrally. 

“Please explain.” 

“I was stalked back in Virginia. I still don’t know by whom, I don’t know why. I’m sure you can imagine that it’s hard for me to trust anyone at this point—please don’t break my car.” Emmett’s hand is squeezing the overhead handle so hard I’m scared he’ll pulverize it on accident. His grip loosens infinitesimally. 

“You mean to tell me,” his voice comes out choked with anger, “that some lunatic terrorized you to the point that you left your home and came all the way across the country?” 

“I guess so. I felt so guilty about it. I still feel guilty about it. I made Will leave all of his friends—he doesn’t know why we moved, by the way. I made my dad quit his dream job, I completely uprooted the home my mom built for us. I feel like it’s all my fault, but the police wouldn’t do anything unless the person tried to hurt me physically, Psychologically, however, is fair game.” My tone progressively gets more bitter, thinking of how I was brushed off by the police, who had the audacity to laugh about the boy who they claimed just didn’t know how to express his feelings. 

“I’m sorry, Raquel, I didn’t know.” 

“I know. That’s why I have trouble trusting any guy’s motives. Not that you seem like an obsessed stalker or anything, but to be fair, you _are_ a vampire.” Emmett’s laugh is deafening in the small, enclosed space of my car. “I should feel freer here, but to be completely honest, it’s the not knowing who did it that messes with me the most. Since I don’t know, I can’t be sure they didn’t follow me. We didn’t tell anyone outside of family where we went, but there’s no guarantee he didn’t find out.” I sigh. 

“Is your real name Raquel?” Emmett asks, somewhat bashfully. I laugh. 

“Yes. Will and my dad call me Quel though. Will had some trouble learning his ‘r’s when he was little, so he shortened my name and it stuck.” I see a flash of white as Emmett grins. 

“Will I ever get to call you Quel?” 

“Maybe. It depends.” 

“On?” He prompts. 

“If you answer all of my questions.” 

“You drive a hard bargain. But I guess.” I laugh at his fake chagrined expression. “There are some things that would be better for me to explain at my house. That sounds like a line, I know, but I have a feeling that you won’t believe me without proof.” 

“Then can I get answers on Saturday?” I tilt my head, looking up into his honey-colored eyes. 

“Sure. If you feel comfortable walking into a den of vampires.” 

“I’ve done it before.” Emmett laughs again. 

“That you have. Bleeding all over Esme’s floor, I might add.” 

“Oh no! I didn’t mean to make anyone suffer.” I add apologetically. 

“If I was Edward, I’d say “we’re all suffering; we’re vampires.”” Emmett adapts an overly glum expression and tortured voice. 

“I don’t sound like that.” Edward’s voice leaks in through the crack in my window. I whip around, surprised to see him there, holding my backpack. I didn’t hear him walk up. I’m immediately reminded of how he invaded my privacy. I unclip my seatbelt and climb out of the car, carefully keeping my thoughts blank. I turn to face him, take a deep breath, and put on my best award-winning smile. 

_You lecherous vampire creep! How dare you invade my privacy you goddamn monstrous bloodsucking worm! Who the hell gave you the right to eavesdrop on my thoughts, Jackass? I sure as hell did not give consent for you to just frolic around reading my mind like a good-for-nothing bat! You jerk! You idiot! You ultimate disgrace and imbecilic sponge! You are a moron who deserves to have to listen to my mental screaming for the rest of your undead life! I think._

After my monologue I begin blatantly shrieking in my mind. Edward winces. He looks around me. 

“You _told_ her?!” He asks Emmett as he climbs out of the car. I’m winding up to smack Edward when Emmett catches my arm. 

“As hot as it would be to see you take Edward down, you’ll only hurt yourself.” 

“I. Don’t. Care.” I glare at Edward, who’s holding out my backpack as an olive branch. 

“You say that now, but when you have a broken wrist, you’re really going to regret that statement.” Emmett says jovially before he softens his tone, taking hold of my wrist. “Hey, look at me.” 

I listen, turning my face up towards his, but my expression doesn’t relax. 

“You of all people should understand where I’m coming from, especially after what I _just_ told you. Is it not enough for my life to be intruded upon externally, but internally now, too?” As I speak, my hand clenches into a fist. Emmett looks down and gently straightens out my fingers before he answers. 

“I do understand,” He says patiently. “but punching Edward in the face will just cause you more harm in the long run. Besides, he doesn’t pry on purpose, but sometimes we need to make sure humans aren’t suspicious.” 

Even though I’ve relaxed my grip, Emmett holds onto my hand. 

“I can assure you, Raquel, that I haven’t gone digging around in your head,” Edward begins cautiously, choosing his words wisely. “But to be fair, you have a very loud mental voice. It takes more work for me to tune you out.” 

“Then try harder.” I spit out, my anger reigniting like a breeze blowing on a dying flame. I snatch back my bookbag and throw it in my car. As I rev the engine, Emmett knocks on my window. I roll it down further. 

“Yes?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He sounds unsure, as though I’m genuinely planning on running away. 

“I’ll be here.” I reply. I’m about to roll my window back up when, so quickly I question if I just imagined it, Emmett kisses my cheek again. It feels like I got pecked by a living ice cube. I feel heat rush into my cheeks, not only because of the sudden lack of freezing cold. 

“Good.” He grins at my reaction, patting the driver’s side door, a metallic clang reverberating throughout the vehicle. I’m about to pull away when he stops me again. 

“Can I help you?” I ask, mock-annoyance coloring my tone. 

“Do you want to ride to school together tomorrow?” If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume Emmett was nervous with the way he kept running his hand through his coal-black curls, flopping back to their original position every time he completed the motion. 

“Sure. I’m driving.” I add forcefully. Emmett beams, pleased by my answer. 

“Yes, ma’am. You’ll pick me up at 7.” I roll my eyes and finally back out of my parking space before heading west to pick up Will. 

✧❉✧

At exactly seven the next morning, I find myself on Emmett’s doorstep. How I managed to remember where his house was is beyond me, but somehow I didn’t get lost. I raise my hand to knock on the whitewashed wooden door when it flies open, so forcefully I’m positive it’s going to be flung off of its hinges.  


“Good morning, sunshine!” Emmett hollers, picking me up and swinging me around before depositing me back on the porch.  


“You have way too much energy for this time of the morning. Did you spike your deer blood with caffeine?” I quirk an eyebrow at him. My sarcasm loses its edge when I let out a huge yawn, the kind that completely takes over your features.  


“Haven’t tried that before. Jackson, write that down!” Emmett calls over his shoulder.  


“They’re in there? Am I supposed to say hello?” I whisper, even though I’m sure they can hear me. I can feel my heart start to speed up. I was supposed to have more time to prepare.  


“Calm down,” Emmett attempts to soothe me, closing the door behind him. “They’re going to wait to meet you officially until tomorrow. They didn’t want to freak you out so early in the morning.”  


Emmett manages to make it down all the porch steps in a single stride. He moves so fast it gives me vertigo.  


“How are you so chipper and full of energy?” I grumble, following after him.  


“Just excited to spend time with you.” He winks. I roll my eyes.  


“No more canned cheesy lines, please.”  


“One more? I promise, it has an original spin on it.” He manages to pull puppy-dog eyes on me, the expression one of innocence that one wouldn’t expect to find on a vampire’s face. I let out a hefty sigh.  


“Fine.” I agree begrudgingly. He waits until he gets into the car to drop it on me.  


“I may be from Tennessee, but you’re the only ten I see!” His laughter is explosive. I groan and drop my face into my hands.  
“That’s _so_ bad. I had higher expectations.” I shake my head before turning to look at him, curiosity burning. “Are you really from Tennessee?”  


“Born and raised. And turned, too.” Despite the nonchalance of his answer, I can feel his eyes gauging my reaction. I turn onto the main road and begin heading towards the school.  


“And when was that?”  


“Don’t you know it’s impolite to ask a vampire his age?” I shot him a glare. He sighs dramatically before answering. “I was turned in 1935. I was twenty years old at the time—”  


I take a minute, processing that Emmett was born in 1915, and that it was likely his siblings were born around that time, too.  


“Then why do you repeat high school?” I demand. “You don’t look like a high schooler.”  


Emmett’s grin doesn’t fade, clearly he’s entertained by my reaction. “It’s easier for us to stay in one place longer if we pretend to be younger. I’m the oldest of my siblings. Physically, at least. Edward says the jury’s still out on mentally.”  


“And how old are they? Physically.”  


“Alice and Jackson are nineteen, Rosalie’s eighteen, and Edward’s seventeen.”  


“So, when you said that Rosalie saved your life,” I begin, the pieces starting to fall into place.  


“Yeah, she carried me to Carlisle and begged him to change me. I was in the middle of a fight with a black bear and I wasn’t winning, to say the least.”  


“When you said you like bears…” I trail off.  


“Call it a vendetta or a grudge, or whatever you like. That hairclip did look cute on you though.”  


“Quit trying to change the subject.”  


“Just stating a fact.” He throws his hands up to in a gesture of innocence.  


“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why did Rosalie save you?” I ask. Emmett lets out a brief chuckle.  


“She says I reminded her of a friend’s baby from her human life. She thought there was a chance we were soulmates, but we’re more friend-soulmates, if that makes sense.” I nod.  


I park the car, and we sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m processing everything he just told me, and I’m contemplating why he’s bothering trying to pursue a relationship with me. Is he just trying to have a pet-human-kind-of-friend? Do they do this often? I’m too scared to ask, not because I don’t have the courage, but because I’m scared of the answer.  


“Did I ever tell you that you smell really good?” Emmett’s voice sucks me out of my thoughts, catching me completely off guard.  


“Huh?” I ask, smelling my shirt, unsure of if he’s teasing me. He laughs.  


"Well, I guess I should say your blood smells really good, but apparently that’s not very romantic.” I blink at him, really trying to process what he’s saying.  


“What do I smell like?” I blurt out, genuinely curious.  


“Like,” he makes a big show of sniffing around me, causing one corner of my lips to turn up. “vanilla and something fruity. Lime? Yeah, that’s it. Lime and vanilla.”  


“I’ll have Yankee Candle make a customized candle of my scent to give to you.” Emmett guffaws at that, unclipping his seatbelt and climbing out of the car, dwarfing it next to his size. I follow, locking the doors behind me. Emmett comes around to my side of the car.  


“Are you walking me to my class again today?” His eyes are crinkled with good humor.  


“Why? Does it bother you?” I ask, somewhat haughtily.  


“No, I like it. I think it’s sweet.” I’m pretty sure he’s aware of the effect his compliments have on me, my cheeks heating up in response.  


“Well, come on then.” I say, grabbing his freezing hand and tugging on it. Emmett looks down at our hands, then back at me, and back to our hands again. Embarrassed, I let go, but before my hand can fully swing back to its position at my side, Emmett grabs it again.  


“Was that not okay?” I ask, slightly sullen.  


“No, you just caught me off guard. Believe me, this is more than okay. You’re very warm.” The blush returns in full force.  


“I’ve always wanted to be someone’s personal HotHands heating pack.” Emmett laughs again before gently tugging me in the right direction.  


Outside of his class, he turns to face me, keeping our hands joined.  


“Just so you know, I’m leaving after lunch with Edward and Alice today to go hunting.” My face falls. “It’s just a precaution for tomorrow. I’d rather not be too focused on wanting to eat you than actually enjoying your company.” His golden eyes twinkle.  


“After all,” he adds, “you are, as the kids say nowadays, a snack.” He winks, smiling when I start cracking up.  


“I said no lines!” I protest, my laughter dying down.  


"But it made you laugh!" He protests. 

Emmett pats my head, but the gesture doesn’t feel condescending. When I reach the English building, Bella smiles at me.  


“That looks like the glow of young love.” She singsongs at me. I shoot her a playful glare.  


“That obvious, huh?” Bella giggles. “Did you ride with Edward today?”  


“I did. Why?”  


“He, Alice, and Emmett are leaving after lunch. I drove today, do you want me to take you home? We could hang out at my house for a while and then I could drop you off, if you’d like.” Bella nods enthusiastically and we hammer out the details before Mr. Mason rushes in, tie askew, his hair barely combed.  


After lunch, Emmett, Alice, and Edward all leave as expected, and at the end of the day I wait for Bella at my car. After picking up Will, we head to my house. On the porch, there’s a cardboard box. Will dashes to pick it up.  


“Quel, it’s for you!” He shouts as I’m getting out of the car. He takes it inside, Bella and me following him. He sets it on the kitchen table before grabbing a snack and taking off to go play video games in his room. I cross the floor to see what the box is. I didn’t think I’d ordered anything online lately.  


“There’s no return address.” My voice turns the statement into a question. Bella shrugs. I grab a pair of scissors and cut through the packing tape.  


“I’m so scared to open it.” I tell Bella, who joins me at the table and holds the tabs on the other end.  


“Then we open it together.” She states matter-of-factly. With my eyes half closed and my body cringing away from the box, we flip the tabs over on the count of three.  


“You can look. It’s a stuffed… bear?” I look inside to confirm Bella’s finding. A typical Build-A-Bear was the source of my fear. I pick it up and squeeze the hand.  


“I love you!” The bear “says” in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. It sounds like someone has distorted their voice. I’m still puzzling over the appearance of the bear when Bella speaks again.  


“Did Emmett get it for you? That’s really sweet. A little soon for “I love you’s” don’t you think?”  


“Yeah, I guess. Maybe it came with the voice box.” I say, starting to feel more convinced.  


“Or you have a secret admirer! Do you think it could be Eric?” She adds slyly. The idea of a secret admirer makes me sick to my stomach, but the odds of the situation repeating itself on the opposite coast have to be slim to none.  


“I hope not.” I mutter, putting the bear in back in the box and taking it upstairs. I shove it in a forgotten corner of my closet. I resolve to ask Emmett about it. If it was a gift from him, I’ll salvage the bear. If not, to Good Will it shall go.  


Bella stays for about an hour, and we work on schoolwork and chat, mostly about the Cullens. When I drop her off at her house, and return home, I feel exhaustion, excitement, and nervousness settling into my bones. I’m not sure why this is more daunting than going, albeit unknowingly, into some vampires’ den while bleeding, but in many ways, it just is. They say knowledge is power, but I’m beginning to wonder how true that sentiment is. I’m still mentally preparing myself for meeting Emmett’s family, now that I know the whole truth when I fall into a dreamless sleep.


	10. The Truth Always Comes Out

From the second my eyes open I feel jittery. I pull on a periwinkle sweater dress and see-through gray tights. I attempt to use a straightener on my hair to tame it, to no avail. The frizz remains. Before heading downstairs, I spritz on some frou-frou perfume my grandmother got me for my birthday a few years ago. I take a deep breath. And another. I don’t feel any calmer. I skid into the kitchen and grab a poptart. I take a seat at our barely used kitchen table, opening the tin foil. I take a bite of the chocolate toaster pastry, getting more and more amped up with every munch. I’m staring at the clock, waiting in anxious anticipation for Emmett to text me. We hadn’t set up a time, but I had a feeling it would be in the morning. I throw the foil wrapper away after I finish my breakfast. My phone dings, the chipper sound at odds with the turmoil brewing in my stomach. 

_Are you ready?_ Emmett’s message reads. 

_Physically? Yes. Mentally? Definitely not._ I send back. 

_Come on, you got this. You’ve done it before. Just try not to bleed this time. And Edward isn't here today, so no mind reading. I promise_

_I make no promises._ With that message, I slide on some boots and a jean jacket. I call out a goodbye to my mom, who’s up getting ready. I take the now familiar road to Emmett’s house, but rather than comforting, the long, twisted roads feel more ominous. I’m so nervous I almost miss the turn. Emmett’s waiting for me on the porch. When I go to open the door a second later, he’s already there, unclipping my seatbelt for me. 

“I can do that.” I argue. 

“But this way I can guarantee you won’t run away.” He smirks. He takes my hand and pulls me along behind him before stopping right before the porch steps and turning to face me. 

“Are you wearing perfume?” I should’ve known he’d be able to smell it. I blush, embarrassed and not wanting him to think I did it for him, even though I kind of did. 

“Yes.” I keep my answer short, hoping he’ll drop it. 

“Why?” His eyebrows knit themselves together. 

“Well, you acted like it can be a bit difficult for you to be around me due to my pleasing aroma,” I wiggle my eyebrows at the last bit. “I figured if I could mask the scent it would be a little bit easier for you.” 

Emmett stares at me for a moment, digesting what I said, before letting out the loudest laugh I’ve ever heard from him, the sound bouncing off of the trees. He picks me up and spins me around before setting me back down and grabbing my hands. 

“That’s incredibly endearing. But not very effective. It isn’t easy for me to be around you, but I like to think I can handle it because I like you.” I blush even deeper. Emmett rubs my cheek with the back of his hand, still holding mine. He lets go of one of my hands so that I can walk, pulling me up the porch steps and across the threshold of the house. I’m grateful that he’s so giant—I’m concealed behind him. Despite the fact that I’ve been here before, I still feel nervous, now that I know—and his family knows that I know their secret. 

“Ma, you’ve already met Raquel.” Emmett gestures with our joined hands between Esme and me. 

“I’m glad you came back.” Her smile softens her already delicate features. She opens her arms slightly, an invitation for a hug without expecting me to accept her offer. I let go of Emmett’s hand and step into her embrace. Her grip is cold and gentle, like a child delicately hugging a china doll, as though worried she’d shatter it. “Emmett has been much happier with you in his life.” She’s says the last bit in a stage whisper, giving me a conspirator’s wink when I pull away. 

“Ma, you’re gonna make me blush.” Emmett wraps an arm around me after I step back to his side. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” 

“Without introducing us to her first?” A soprano voice, like a windchime stirred by a breeze, trails down the beautiful wooden staircase. Alice appears, moving too fast for my eyes to process, her spiky black hair slightly ruffled from the mini-whirlwind she created. She skips over to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, all within the blink of an eye. I’m so shocked I just stand there until she steps back. 

“Raquel! I saw you coming. I told you so, Jackson,” She calls to the lanky blonde hesitating by the stairs. “I’m never wrong. After over seventy years together, you’d think he’d learn.” 

She positions herself so that we’re both looking at Jackson, Alice’s arm slung around my shoulders like we’ve been besties for our whole lives rather than having just met a few moments before. I relax, pleased with how this is going. I smile across the room at Jackson . 

“Hi.” I say, all traces of shyness and apprehension gone in the blink of an eye. 

“Hello.” He says, lips tilting up in the faintest of smiles. Emmett leads me towards the stairs with a hand on my lower back. I can feel the chill of his hand through my dress, sending a not unpleasant shiver through me. As we head up the stairs, I turn to beam at him. 

“I think this is going well.” I whisper, though I’m sure the other three vampires can hear me. Emmett nods. His eyes flicker to the steps above me, and his lively grin dissipates slowly, like a freshly extinguished candle. I turn to follow his gaze to find Rosalie, in all of her luscious, blonde-haired beauty, staring down at us with cold eyes, an avenging angel sans wings. She begins to approach us, her golden waves to bounce with the exaggerated attitude conveyed by her calculated, slow footsteps. 

“Really, Emmett? I expect this sort of thing from Edward, but you? Why didn’t you just do us all a favor and just kill her again?” Rosalie’s eyes land on me briefly, before flashing to Emmett. I’m confused by her last statement, frantically looking from her back to Emmett like a bobblehead that’s been flicked one too many times. 

“Rose…” Emmett begins, but Rosalie takes in my expression and begins to laugh. 

“You haven’t told her? No wonder she’s here. And she hears the truth from me? Shakespeare would be jealous of the drama I just caused.” She turns to smile at me. Her mouth expresses happiness, but there’s a bitterness or resentment in her eyes. I can’t bring myself to smile back. Rosalie hops over the banister, landing gracefully on her feet despite the ten-foot drop, and flashes out of sight. I turn to Emmett, questions on my face. 

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you. Come on, let’s go see Carlisle.” Emmett’s mouth is pressed into a grim line, and I follow him into the office in which Carlisle stitched up my face before. 

“Hey, Big Papa!” Emmett seems to recover most of his good humor, but if he weren’t undead, I’d say he looked almost gray. 

“Somehow it gets worse every day.” Carlisle mutters, pushing away from his desk. “Hello again, Raquel. It’s lovely to see you again.” 

“Hi, Carlisle. I’m glad to be back.” I add with a tentative smile. Carlisle turns to Emmett. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Well, I’m sure you heard, but Rose kind of let the cat out of the bag. I figured it’d probably be better if you explain.” Emmett drops my hand and steps away. I look at my empty hand and then at Carlisle for answers. 

“I did hear. You’ll probably want to sit down.” He says the last part to me. I comply, taking a seat in the desk chair. 

“Raquel, I’ve never had to tell you this. Or rather, any version of you this.” I look up at him, more confused than ever. “You’ve heard of reincarnation?” I nod. 

“Well, there’s a similar idea where a person, called an old soul, keeps being reborn. There are a few theories as to why this may be, but the most common—and the one that I personally subscribe to, is that the old soul hasn’t been able to live their whole life for one reason or another. Their life has been cut short, and so the universe or whatever powers that be give them a second chance, or however many it takes.” 

“And you think I’m one of these? I don’t even believe in reincarnation.” I cross my arms, skeptical even though the concept seems to shake something loose in my head. Carlisle approaches me, bending down to open a drawer filled with files. He pulls one out and opens it. 

“I would say it’s incredibly possible you are one, Raquel. We—being my family and myself, have run into you a couple of times.” He says while pulling pictures out. The first is black and white, and it’s of a family, a father, mother, and two children who look to be the same age. I recognize the two-story white farmhouse in the back, it looks just like my dream. I study the woman’s face, my pulse speeding up when I recognize a similar, older version of my own face. Her shoulder-length hair has been arranged into an array of curls clearly from rollers with a few strands threatening to ruin all of her hard work in favor of their natural state. Her smile is wide, eyes bright, an expression I've seen in pictures taken of me. My eyes flash up to Carlisle’s as he hands me the other picture. This one is sepia toned, and has two girls with their arms slung around each other. I look at the taller one, with long, wavy blonde hair before studying the shorter one. Though she’s laughing, I see my unruly hair, dimples, and even the slight freckles scattered across my nose. I drop the pictures, shook to my core. My dreams come back to me, swirling around my head on a loop. 

“When were these taken?” I whisper. “I’ve dreamed about them before. You’re telling me that those weren’t dreams? They were somehow… memories?” 

“1943 and 1968, respectively. As for your dreams, I don’t know of many other old souls, but it’s possible that you did in fact have memories bleed through. After all, you are the same soul in a new body. It would make sense that you retain some things, albeit subconsciously when you return.” My brain feels as though a fog has permeated throughout my skull, making my thoughts sluggish and jumbled. A pit forms in my stomach, a sense of foreboding. 

“What… happened to me?” I have a feeling I already know, but I need to hear Carlisle say it, out loud. If I keep coming back, that means there’s no happy ending to any of my stories. 

“Well,” Carlisle hesitates, glancing at Emmett standing uncharacteristically silent in the doorway. “I want to preface this by saying it was a long time ago, and we’ve become more practiced, better at this lifestyle. I want to introduce you to another concept first. It only applies to our kind. It’s referred to as _la cantante_.” 

My eyebrows furrow, trying to see where this is going. 

“The English translation is blood singer. It’s where a human’s blood… appeals to a specific vampire above and beyond how that human’s blood appeals to other vampires. It’s unknown how common it is, but most vampires are unable to resist the urge to… act on their impulse. It’d be comparable to sharks smelling blood in the water.” Carlisle looks at me, making sure I’m okay. 

“I killed you.” Emmett’s voice interrupts, deep and gravely. I blink, unable to process what he said for a minute. 

“Huh?” 

“The current theory, or rather, my current theory, is that you’re Emmett’s blood singer, and you have been since your first incarnation. Since Emmett killed you in the past, you keep coming back.” Carlisle says, trying to be gentle in his delivery. I stand up, fury seeping out of every pore. 

“You killed me? Did you realize who I was when you first saw me?” My hands are balled into fists at my side, my gaze accusing. 

“Yes.” Emmett answers quietly. “It’s why Carlisle looked startled the first time you came here. He recognized you, too.” 

“And yet,” I get even closer to him, ignoring the potential danger. 

“You still had the audacity to befriend me? When you knew you’d want to kill me? How dare you, Emmett. You didn’t even come clean when I told you how much I have trouble trusting people. And to think,” I let out a humorless laugh. “I was _really_ starting to like you! I really was thinking that you were someone I could trust absolutely. That not all guys are out to get me? Only to find out that was a lie? How could you?” 

Despite the crescendo of my voice as I go through my rant, the last words come out as a whisper. 

“I’m so, so sorry Raquel.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his giant hand and his voice cracks a bit. “I wish I had been strong enough not to kill you then. I can only thank whatever gods or deities there are that I’m stronger now, that I can be around you.” 

“You genuinely thought,” I laugh again, edging on hysterical. “I’d still want to date you after all of this? Very funny, Emmett. I had families. I had children for God’s sake. Did you really believe that I’d hear all of this and say that it was all fine and you could just carry me off into the sunset? I thought a lot of things about you, Emmett, but being delusional was not one of them.” 

I move to leave when Carlisle’s voice stops me. 

“Raquel? There is one last thing.” I turn to face him slowly. “You should know that you’re also Emmett’s soul mate. For vampires this-“ I don’t bother to listen to the rest of his explanation, waving him off and leaving. I can tell Emmett’s about to follow me, but Carlisle stops him, mumbling something about “let her go.” When I reach the bottom of the stairs, three sets of honey-colored eyes are looking at me, a range of pity to apprehension in each pair. 

“You all knew?” I ask. When none of them answer, I scoff, nod once, and turn to go. 

“Raquel, please wait.” Alice says, zipping to my side, gently taking ahold of my arm. I sigh and face her. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Alice. I just need some time to process all of this.” 

“I know. I also know you’ll be back.” She grins and wraps her tiny arms around me. Despite the thickened wall that now encase my heart, it crumbles a little when Alice hugs me. I pat her head and leave, albeit slightly less angry. I head down the steps when I sense Emmett behind me. I turn to face him, leaning against my car with my arms crossed. 

“I—” He starts. I wave an arm to cut him off. 

“Save it, Emmett.” I fling open my door and climb in. Before I close the door, I call out, “while you’re at it, you can quit it with the gifts.” 

To his credit, Emmett looks genuinely confused. I can feel my emotionless demeanor begin to rupture, so I close my door and head down the driveway before he can question what I said. 

I’m a few miles down the road when the tears hit. I pull over as sobs wrack my body. I’m not completely sure what I’m crying for. My past selves, killed before their time? The families I didn’t know I had who lost a daughter? Myself, for letting down my walls so quickly? A combination? At this point I’m not sure. 

When my sobs quiet down to the occasional hiccup and I no longer need windshield wipers for my eyes, I turn the key in the ignition and head back home. I manage to sneak up to my room with minimal questioning from my mom. I flop down on my bed, facing the wall and trying to think about what my next move is. I haven’t gotten anywhere past moving across the globe when my phone _dings_ next to me. 

_I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and that’s fair. Could you at least let me know that you got home safe? My actions were stupid; I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I want you to know though, that everything I said before you found out was 100% the truth. If you decide to give me another chance, I’ll do my best to rectify my behavior and do better in to try to fix this mess in any way I can._ With texts, you can’t read inflection, but Emmett always says what he means, that much I know for sure. I sit up to type out a quick reply affirming that I’m fine and made it home okay before flopping back down onto my pillow, even more confused now. 

Despite my anger and hurt I feel, which I know are completely justified, I also feel like completely cutting Emmett out of my life is impossible. Though I didn’t listen to Carlisle’s explanation, fed up with the fact that he, too, seemed to think I shouldn’t find this blatant disregard of the emotional toll this would take on me, the outright dismissal of why I was in pain, to listen to whatever he meant about soulmates, but I can’t deny that I felt a sense of truth, of rightness when he said it. But accepting this only brings on another set of questions. How could your soulmate kill you? If they’re truly supposed to love you, how could they bear to be the reason you die? 

I’m trying to reconcile that I have to admit to myself that I do care about Emmett; I really like him. But I also don’t know how to forgive someone who literally killed me in my past lives. Were those people really me, though? My soul was definitely the same—no question there, but I don’t remember much else besides my death. Am I truly willing to give Emmett a second chance if he agrees to take things slow and rebuild all the trust he destroyed with me? I’m not ready to forgive him now, but I have a feeling that the feelings I had before today are too strong to just ignore. I also don’t want to be a pushover. 

_Really, Raquel? It’s been one day and you’re already considering forgiving him? You need to get it together, grieve, and think about the reality of the consequences you face. He’s killed you before, he could—and there’s a very real possibility he will—do it again. And you just wanna jump headfirst back into a relationship with him because of some other fate you have as his soul mate? Get it together girl._ I think to myself. One thing is for sure, I don’t have to make a decision today, or tomorrow, for that matter. I’m going to take the time to figure out what is best for me, independently. I think this, but I also have the gut feeling that Alice was right, and I’ll be back at the Cullen home before I know it.


	11. When Worlds Collide

When I wake up the next morning, the day is overcast, clouds covering all traces of the sunlight from yesterday. I check my phone, no messages. I feel terrible, emotionally and physically. 

Emotionally, I feel like someone drained me. I wince at the thought, as it conjures up images, no, memories of Emmett murdering past versions of me. Physically, I’m exhausted. I spent the night tossing and turning, terrified by the threat of possible memories resurfacing. I brush my teeth, fix my hair and go down to the kitchen. My dad is drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. The top story’s headline is about some animal attacks that got close to Forks. After I grab my poptart, I attempt to retreat back into my room, but my dad clears his throat. I wince and turn around. 

“Pop a squat, Quel. Let’s talk.” My dad’s voice is gruff but gentle. I obey, snagging the seat across from him. 

“What’s up?” I ask, my voice hoarse. 

“How are things?” He’s deliberately casual with his words, but his eyes bore into me in what I like to call “the private investigator stare.” 

“Fine. How’s it going at the office?” 

“Good. Your mom told me about some guy, Emery or whatever.” 

I stifle a laugh. “Emmett? What about him?” 

“Just that you two were getting very close. And that you were being cagey about him.” My dad shrugs. 

“We’re—” I pause. What _are_ we, exactly? We sure as hell aren’t dating. We _were_ friends, until I found out he’s quite literally murdered me before. Carlisle says we’re soulmates, but me? I say, “friends. It’s a little complicated.” 

There’s no need for me to start airing my own dirty laundry. I don’t want my dad to worry that I’ve completely lost it and try to move us all again. The idea of moving sends a painful pang through every nerve in my body. I’ve created a life here that makes me happy. Bella, Angela, and Jess’s smiling faces flicker in my head, followed by the uninvited image of Emmett, eyes crinkled with laughter. As pissed as I am at him, I feel as though leaving would hurt even more. 

“Well, there’s nothing of note in his background.” My dad throws out flippantly, oblivious to my emotions churning inside my thoughts. 

“You looked into his background? Isn’t that illegal?” I look at my dad slack-jawed. Of course, I never expected him to find anything, the Cullens seem pretty adept at covering their tracks, let alone for him to find that I was killed by one of them, multiple times at that. But for him to do a background check in the first place? Unbelievable. 

“Raquel,” He says patiently. “I _am_ a private investigator. And besides, after last time, can you blame me for being a smidge more protective?” 

He’s right. I can’t blame him for wanting what’s best for me. 

“Regardless, I don’t like the idea of you scrutinizing every person who comes into my life. Please don’t do it again unless someone does something sketchy.” I take my leave with that, my bad mood worsened by the exchange. 

As I angrily munch on my PopTart, I work on finishing the rest of the Spanish project. Emmett sent me his portion at three in the morning, what he was doing awake at that hour I have no earthly idea. After completing it, I sit at my desk, staring off into space, deep in thought yet again. Was it really only yesterday that I felt like what Emmett and I had was bordering on becoming more romantic, the culmination of our relationship building every time we were together? 

It’s in this daze that I remember something Emmett did that was nagging me. I head back into the room that serves as my mom’s office. Her sleek oak desk faces the door, and she looks up when I come in. 

“Hey Mom?” I ask. “Did you and Dad get me a snow globe? Or any other gifts, for that matter?” 

“No, honey, why?” She tilts her head, the pen she had stuck into her bun to keep her hair off of her face falling to the floor and rolling under her desk. 

“I just found a couple of gifts around the house. I figured you and Dad got them for me and Will.” I answer as she bends over to pick up the pen, so she can’t see the telltale sign that I’m lying in my face. 

I turn and walk out of her office before running the second I’m out of her sight into my room. I pull the snow globe off the shelf and turn it over. I put it back and force myself to take deep breaths, pushing my hair up out of my face, leaving my hands on my forehead. There has to be more logical explanations, right? I frantically grab a pen and after multiple attempts, manage to click it open. I grab a scrap sheet of paper and begin writing down the weird things that have been happening. 

The necklace. 

The snow globe. 

The note in my car. 

The bear. 

I take a deep breath. None of these are anything like how it used to be. I force myself to get up and lay on my bed, ready to think back to those times to see if any morsel of information could help me now. The idea terrifies me, and I find myself wishing Emmett was with me. I don’t realize I’ve snatched my phone off of my dresser until I’ve unlocked it. I go to text Emmett when an unknown number pops up on my screen. 

_I had fun last time! Let’s do it again sometime? -NP_

I drop the phone like it’s cursed. I try to laugh at my jitters, this has to be from a date gone wrong, right? A girl probably gave a guy a fake number, and I’m the unlucky soul who had a heart attack because of it. Determined to try to find some solace in my memories, traumatic as they are, I lay back and close my eyes, the sound of rain as soothing a backdrop as any for me to think back to my darkest days. 

It started last summer. I had just gotten my braces off, and my best friend at the time, Lindsay, and I went to a summer fair so I could (officially) enjoy the foods I wasn’t supposed to eat during that time. 

“Seriously, Quel, any guy would be lucky to have you. You just need to get your confidence up!” Lindsay links our elbows together, her straight red hair tickling my arm as it swishes when she walks. 

“I’m not interested in anyone at our school, Linds,” I say, trying to reign her in. “Besides, if any guy was worth dating, he would’ve dated me even when I had braces.” Lindsay raises her eyebrows and nods off to a guy around our age manning the ring toss booth. “How about him?” 

“What about him?” I ask, studying him covertly. His eyes are a pale blue, his dark brown hair meticulously arranged to give the illusion of apathy. His eyes meet mine, but his stare is so deep I look away. I look at Lindsay, who’s looking in the opposite direction, but I can’t tell what’s caught her eye. 

That memory bleeds into the next. This one is a few weeks later, the first Friday of the school year. 

“Raquel!” Lindsay squeals, running over to my locker. I greet her without enthusiasm, puzzled by the note in my locker. It seems innocuous enough, a small piece of paper with “I like you” scrawled across it. 

“It’s the third one this week.” I show Lindsay, who’s been teasing me mercilessly. She snatches the note and puts her hand on my shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Raquel. Someone has a crush on you.” She acts like it’s totally fine. 

“This doesn’t show any sign of obsession at all to you?” 

“Nope. It’s fine,” she squeezes my shoulder to emphasize her point. “Don't you want to know my news? I have a boyfriend now!” 

I’m shocked. Not that Lindsay has a boyfriend, but that she hadn’t even mentioned talking with a guy or even having a crush. “Who is it?” 

“Bradley. He’s a senior.” She wiggles her brows at me, green eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“That’s great, Linds. I gotta go.” I close my locker, feeling alone. Lindsay hasn’t been talking to me as much. That in and of itself isn’t a problem, but every time I try to mention any of the weird things happening, she brushes me off and says I’m overreacting. 

The weeks after are a blur. The notes escalate, becoming more and more frequent. Every other day, daily, now they come after every period. They range from the mundane, “Have a nice day” to the eerie “Can’t wait to see you again.” Beyond that, letters in burgundy envelopes keep showing up to my house, each message more macabre and destitute than the last. My phone blows up with texts from various unknown numbers. I tried to block them, but it feels like I’m fighting a hydra—every time one is blocked, two more are at the ready to torment me more. I get phone calls in the middle of the night, and in my half-awakened stupor I answer it, only to realize my mistake when I hear the heavy breathing on the other end. 

Lately, the notes have been getting more and more threatening towards me, my friends, my family. The most recent target for this person is Will. This person either knows me or has gone through the trouble to _know_ me, and at this point, I don’t know which is worse. 

“I just feel like nothing is safe anymore.” I sigh, pushing my food away and burying my face into my arms that are crossed on the table. 

“Raquel, you need to tell someone,” Noah, my closest friend apart from Lindsay says, rubbing my back in comforting circles. “You’ve lost weight, you’re barely eating. Girl, this isn’t healthy.” 

“I know, but what if I’m overreacting? Lindsay seems to think I am.” My voice, muffled by my hoodie, is muffled. 

“What if you’re not? And besides, I have a lot I could say about Lindsay. Especially now.” I can hear his annoyance seeping into his tone. I look up at him, studying his green eyes. 

“You really don’t think I’m losing it?” “

I’ve known you for, what, five years now? I think I’d be able to tell.” He grins at me, but it fades when he looks behind me. “Heads up, the insufferable love birds are headed straight for us.” 

“Is it too late for an escape?” I ask, but the scraping of metallic chairs cuts me off. 

“Hey guys!” Lindsay’s voice is super high pitched, and she’s holding hands with her boyfriend. 

“Hey, Linds, we were actually just leaving.” Noah apologizes, gently holding onto my elbow to steer me away. 

“No! Bradley wants to meet you guys! Especially you, Quel.” I sigh and take a seat. 

“Hi. I’m Raquel. There. We’ve met.” I’m usually not so apathetic, but if Lindsay can dismiss my feelings then I don’t feel obligated to do what she wants. 

“Nice to meet you, Raquel.” His voice is quiet, indistinct. “I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, since Linds and I are going to be together all the time.” 

“I sincerely hope not.” I whisper under my breath. Noah stifles a laugh and leads me out of the cafeteria. 

I sit up. Somehow, I’ve managed to waste the whole day reliving that nightmare. I don’t know what time it is or what’s going on. I head downstairs to find my mom on the phone. 

“Oh, here she is now!” She says into the receiver before handing it to me. “It’s your grandmother.” 

“Hi, Grammy.” I say. 

“Hey, doll baby! How have you been?” 

“I’m a lot better. I feel safer here.” I reply. 

“I’m glad, sweetheart. A shame about your boyfriend though.” 

“Huh?” How could she know about Emmett? He wasn’t even officially my boyfriend, especially not at the moment. Has my mom been gossiping again? 

“That you had to leave him? He came by looking for you. You didn’t tell him anything? He was crushed when I told him you had moved.” My blood runs cold. 

“Gram, did you tell him where we went?” My voice shakes. 

“Yes, he said he wanted to write you a letter, so I gave him your address. Raquel, Raquel, sweetie, are you okay?” I clutch the phone in a death grip, heart beating out of control. 

“Yeah, Gram. I’m good. I need to go work on a-uh school project.” 

“Okay, doll. Hand the phone back to your momma, would you? I love you.” After reaffirming I love her, too, I give my mom the phone and run up to my room. 

I’m panicking. He’s here. He knows where I am at the very least. I rip the necklace from my neck and grab the snow globe off of my counter and chuck them into the box with the bear. I check my phone. No messages from Emmett. I know I should tell my parents, but what if my grandma just confused another guy as my boyfriend? Could it be Noah? Probably, he knew where my grandmother lived. He probably just didn’t correct her, figuring that she’d be more likely to give him my address if he claimed to be my boyfriend. She probably recognized him from pictures of us together. The more I talk myself into it, the more I can feel myself believing. 

About an hour later, after I’ve calmed down, my mom calls me downstairs. She sounds worried, and I see why when I get to the bottom of the stairs. Charlie’s in the living room, his eyes ringed in the red that comes post crying. 

“Hey, Charlie. Is everything okay?” I ask, leaning against an armchair, too anxious to sit. 

“Have you seen Bella?” Charlie’s voice is gravelly from crying. He clears his throat. 

“Not since Friday. Why? Is she in trouble?” I frantically look from my mom back to Charlie. 

“She came storming in tonight after spending the day with Edward Cullen and his family. She was yelling about how much she hated him, and then she packed up her things and left. Claimed she was going back to Arizona. I was hoping she changed her mind and maybe came here. Had she mentioned anything to you? Has she contacted you at all?” 

“Oh my God, Charlie, I’m so sorry. She hasn’t texted me or called me lately. She seemed really happy, especially with Edward.” I add that to another one of my reasons to fight Edward at some point. 

“I mentioned you were seeing his brother, Emmett.” My mom supplies. 

“He hasn’t mentioned anything either. We actually got in a small fight yesterday, too, so I haven’t spoken to him at all today.” 

“I’ll keep looking. Maybe she’ll change her mind.” Realizing this may be my only chance, I offer to walk Charlie to the door. Once on the porch, I quietly close the door behind me. 

“Hey, Charlie? I know you have a lot on your mind right now, but I had a question about the law in Forks.” I wrap my arms around myself, keeping out the chill from the air and from my memories. 

“Sure, kid. What’s up?” 

“What’s the law on stalking? It’s for… a class project.” I lie on the spot. I know I shouldn’t, but the last thing I need is for Charlie to alert my parents before I’m sure of what I can or should do. 

“Well, it depends. It can range from a misdemeanor to a felony, depending on what the stalker does. You can get a protection order from a judge if you have proof of stalking, and the stalker can be arrested if they disobey that order. Or if they cause bodily harm, of course.” I nod, thanking Charlie and promising to let him know if I hear from Bella before going back inside. 

I brush past my mom and head up to my room, grabbing my phone and calling Emmett. No answer. I try again. No answer. I try one last time before giving up and deciding to leave a message. 

“Hey, Emmett. It’s me. This isn’t me forgiving you by any means, but I heard Bella left because of Edward? That doesn’t sound right to me. Is she okay? I know you’re probably busy, or giving me my space, or helping Bella, but…” I pause, taking a breath in before whispering. “I think the stalker might have found me. I don’t have any concrete proof, but I need to get some. I-I guess I just wanted someone to know.” 

I hang up, dropping my phone and rubbing my temples, a headache blossoming. I try calling Bella, to no avail. I make plans to go by the Cullens’ after school tomorrow-my dad’s picking up Will. I get ready for bed, but sleep doesn’t come due to my paranoia. Every branch scratching the house is my stalker trying to scare me, the wind a haunting scream. When I finally fall asleep, it’s nothing but a nightmare where I’m chased by a faceless, nameless person, and I’m unable to escape. 

The next day, the Cullens’ absence is palpable, particularly combined with Bella’s. I get her classwork for her when I can, Angela agreed to get the other classes. I look around the cafeteria at lunch, but not a single one is present. My day passes in a blur, the stress and worry making everything hazy and hard to focus on. 

I drive to the Cullens’ home, cursing the long driveway, as it’s taking me even longer to reach the antique farmhouse. I park in the grass and climb out, looking around for any sign that they’re home. I slowly climb up the steps when Rosalie appears from around the side of the house, walking at a human pace. Shock covers her features when she sees me before she recovers and blinks over to my side. 

“You can’t be here.” Her voice is low and deadly, her eyes scanning the woods behind me. 

“Why not? I’m just here—” I can’t help the petulant indignation that seeps its way into my voice. I know Rosalie doesn’t like me very much, but I have a right to come find Emmett. 

“I’m serious, Raquel. Go. Home.” Her golden eyes lock onto mine, the intensity setting off alarm bells in my head. 

“No.” Her eyebrows raise. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. I get that we aren’t friends or anything, but—” 

“This isn’t about my personal feelings towards you. For your safety—which matters to Emmett, you need to be away from the danger. And that’s at your house. Not here. Definitely not here.” 

“Fine. Esme will tell me.” I shake loose from her grip and go to knock on the door. Rosalie’s hand wraps around my wrist before my knuckles can touch the old wood. 

“Esme isn’t here,” She says through her teeth. She contemplates for a moment before sighing. “I’ll tell you everything. Later. At your house. Do you have a tree or anything outside your window?” 

“Um, there’s one like thirty feet from it.” She nods. 

“I’ll be there when I can. For my sake, and Emmett’s, please just go straight home.” 

“Do you promise?” She lets go of my wrist. 

“Yes. Look, you matter to Emmett, whether you decide what he did is enough to warrant you never speaking to him again. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. And I don’t want to be blamed if you decide to play human martyr in this game. I already don’t want to have to protect Bella. You, I marginally respect more. I’ll be there sometime tonight. Leave the window unlocked. Unless you want me breaking it.” Rosalie turns me around and gives me a firm push towards my car. I nearly fall off the porch steps when she grabs my shirt to stop me. 

“Sorry, I forget humans are so fragile.” 

“It’s okay. I forget vampires are so strong.” Rosalie tries to keep her indifferent expression on her face, but her lips twitch up a little. I drive home, rushing upstairs to unlock my window and wait for nightfall.


	12. From Bad to Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, violence, mentions sexual assault

“Could you pace any louder?” The voice makes me jump. I gasp and turn to find Rosalie hanging onto my window sill, somehow able to climb up to and open it with me being none the wiser. She climbs into my room with a supernatural grace and fluidity that’s mesmerizing. 

“Are you going to quit gaping at me so I can tell you what’s going on, or were you planning on looking like a goldfish for the rest of the night?” She crosses her arms over her chest. I close my mouth and take a seat on my bed, wrapping the comforter around myself. I gesture to the chair behind her, but Rosalie barely spares it a glance and continues to stand. 

“Emmett’s told you how you smell to him, right?” She starts. I nod. “Well, Bella smells that way to Edward. Of course, you have the same scent around other vampires, but it just isn’t as strong. Like perfume. It smells the same to everyone, but one scent is more alluring to you than another. Carlisle told you all of this, right? 

“What happened last night is a few nomads—how most of our kind live, were passing through the area while we were playing baseball. Don’t ask, I’m sure Emmett would be _more_ than happy to tell you about it later, or rather demonstrate. Gives him a chance to show off. Anyway, Bella was with us, watching us play. These nomads… who were not vegetarians to say the least showed up. Alice saw them passing through, a few days later, but they changed course once they heard our game. One of them, a tracker—a vampire that specializes in, in this instance, predicting his prey’s moves smelled Bella.” Rosalie’s nose wrinkles a bit. 

“Edward’s protectiveness caught his eye and now he’s after Bella. Edward claims Bella doesn’t smell the same to the tracker as she does to him, but that she was up there in terms of potency. Edward also said the tracker is persistent and has never lost his prey before. His mate has been in Forks, sniffing around. Edward sent Bella with Alice and Jackson to Arizona, and Esme and I stayed here taking shifts to protect Charlie.” I raise my hand, like I’m in a classroom. 

“What?” She snaps. 

“Where are Carlisle, Edward, and Emmett?” 

“Trying to chase down the tracker. _This_ is why I always say we shouldn’t get involved with humans. If _any_ of them get hurt it’ll be Bella’s fault… and I don’t know what I’ll do. The only thing I want is to protect my family, and all you humans cause is trouble. Especially Bella.” Rosalie finally takes a seat and looks up at me. “I’m not going to tell you to stay away from Em. I’m the reason he’s like this, it’d be hypocritical of me to demand that you let him go when I couldn’t do that myself. But if you choose to be with a vampire—one as old as we are, who have no connections to their human life, you only see the glamorized version. The facades we’ve crafted over decades. It’s going to get into your head that it’s worth it to become one of us so that you can stay with Emmett forever. But you don’t know everything you’re giving up.” 

Her tone turns bitter towards the end and the wheels in my head begin to churn, putting her words and actions together. 

I’m baffled. “You don’t like me because you think I want to be a vampire? Or is it because you think I’m trying to steal your best friend from you?” 

“Both, I guess. Mainly the former. I’d like to see you actually try the latter.” She lets out a brief chuckle before sighing. “But I can’t stop him. It was much easier when he just killed you before.” She mutters the last bit and I let out a startled laugh. 

“I hadn’t even thought about it, Rosalie. I sure as hell won’t be doing it next week or anything like that.” I pause. “Has Emmett… mentioned that?” 

“Turning you? No. Not verbally. Edward’s heard him thinking about it, and he told me. He thinks that of any of us, I’m the only one who could possibly talk some sense into Emmett. Edward and I hate what we are the most. But every one of us had our choices stripped from us. Carlisle turned me after I was assaulted in the worst way possible by the man I was supposed to marry and his friends. Edward was dying of the Spanish flu. Alice doesn’t remember anything from her human life. Esme tried to commit suicide. I…I’m the reason Emmett’s stuck like this. It’s a painful process, and doing it to keep someone with you is selfish and, truth be told, inconsiderate.” I gulp. 

“If it’s any consolation,” I say once I find my voice. “I wasn’t planning on becoming a vampire, at least not anytime soon. I didn’t even think it was on the table. I can’t leave my family. But if what Carlisle says is correct, I’m an old soul. I’ll just keep coming back. And isn’t it worse to have to die many painful deaths over and over, many times at the hands of the person you’re meant to be with? I don’t remember my past lives, Rosalie, but I do remember my deaths.” 

Rosalie looks like she’s starting to hear me out, but she doesn’t seem convinced. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that this should be your choice. Don’t let anyone pressure you into thinking that you need to become one of us, that it’s worth it. You don’t see it now, but when you have nothing but time to think on your hands, you will. Don’t make any decisions now. You’re still young.” And with that Rosalie ducks out of my window, soundlessly landing in a crouch in the grass below. 

I’m awakened from my slumber by the _brrrrrzzt brrrrrzzt_ of my phone ringing. I answer, thinking it’s Emmett. 

“Emmett?” I whisper into the phone. My momentary relief is cut short by the deep, huffing breaths. The familiar icy tingle of fear trickles down my spine, a meandering river of terror. I hang up as fast as I can, fumbling to end the call. I sit up, tears welling up in my eyes. I know that I should just tell my parents, but the deep-seated guilt I have over uprooting our life refuses to let me until I have concrete proof. I wrap my arms around my legs after I tuck them under my chin. 

It takes me hours to calm myself enough to sleep. Every time I manage to relax one muscle, another one becomes strained from stress, resulting in a repetitive cycle that keeps me awake. 

I drag myself out of bed, get myself ready, and throw on the closest pieces of clothing I have. I stumble down the stairs, grabbing my usual PopTart and take a seat at the table. 

“Good morning, sweetie.” My mom says. This isn’t good. She only calls me by nicknames this early in the morning when she’s about to be the bearer of bad news. 

“What is it?” I sigh. She takes a seat next to me and puts her hand on my arm. 

“Well, you know your dad is chasing down a lead in Oregon,” She starts. I nod. “Will has a field trip tomorrow. It’s an overnight trip, and he needs a chaperone. I mean, you remember The Incident.” 

Memories of food dye, swimming pools, and a very traumatized third grade teacher flood my mind. As much as I want to beg my mom not to go, that I think the stalker is back and up to his old tricks and I don’t feel safe, I feel like I can’t. Will finally gets to be a normal kid after the past year, where his sister was scared of her shadow and his parents’ eyes were always accompanied by dark circles. I just nod and force a smile. 

“That’s fine. I’ll be okay. Where is it?” 

“It’s at a museum in Seattle. They also want to go site seeing, the Space Needle, you know.” She shrugs. “Are you sure it’s okay? I can stay if you need me.” 

Every cell is screaming at me to tell her, tell her _now_. But I can’t. 

“Yeah, it’s one night. I’ll try not to throw a kegger.” My mom rolls her eyes and lightly slaps my arm teasingly. I get up, grab my bag, and head back to school, hoping beyond all hope that Emmett will be back today. 

I’m disappointed, but not surprised when the Cullens still aren’t back in school. Mrs. Goff reminds us that our presentations are due next week. I hope this all blows over by then. I feel like I’m in _Groundhog Day_ , today feeling the exact same as yesterday. I get into my car and check my phone before heading to pick up Will. No messages. I’m about to back out when Angela knocks on my window. 

“Hey, you dropped this earlier,” she hands me a notebook. “I was going to give it to you before, but you were kinda zoned out and didn’t hear me.” 

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” I try to muster up enthusiasm, but I can’t quite manage it. Angela notices. 

“Are you okay? You haven’t seemed like it the past few days.” Her eyes are wide with concern. 

“I’m fine, Angela. Just a lot going on in my personal life. I’m also really worried about Bella. Thanks for worrying about me, though.” 

“I’m worried, too. If you need or want to talk about it, you have my number.” I thank her and drive off. 

✧❉✧

The next day is more of the same. Dreary skies, frigid weather, repetitive. The only difference is that I’m lonelier and the house is quieter. I drop my keys on the counter and reread the note my mom left. 

_Will and I are off! Will check in with you later. Here’s $20 to order a pizza—go wild. But not literally. No parties._

_Love,_

_Mom_

I pocket the twenty dollars and head upstairs to work on homework. I’m neck deep into reading about the green light and lavishness of Gatsby’s world when I hear a knock on the door. Like any teenager with semi-decent survival skills, I ignore it. The raps on the door get louder, but still I ignore it. 

The light fades from the sky, and with it, my motivation to work on homework. I head into the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water does little to diffuse the tension that’s taken up a permanent residence in my neck and shoulders. I’m just beginning to wash the cherry shampoo out of my hair when I hear it. A crash from downstairs. 

I freeze, hands in my hair. My brain has so many thoughts swirling around it’s hard to focus on any one in particular. I strain my ears listening, and slowly begin scrunching my hair to get the last suds out. Hearing nothing, I pick up the bottle of conditioner and begin working it into my hair. I pause again. Nothing. The logical half of my brain is just thinking that something that was precariously placed fell off of a counter; the emotional part of my brain ringing every alarm bell, urging me to listen and get out. I deliberate for a minute. 

“If this is how it ends, I’m sure as hell not about to go out with conditioner in my hair.” I mutter, washing my hair again. 

Rather than turning off the water, I leave it running. If there is someone in the house, they’d be able to tell that I got out of the shower. I quickly throw on my pajamas. A floor board creaks downstairs. I go to grab my phone from the counter when I let out a curse, remembering that I left it charging in my room. I slowly open the bathroom door, looking around. 

_Survival instincts be damned._ I think to myself after seeing no one there, creeping to the top of the stairs and silently making my way down step by step. I silently thank God that I thought to throw on socks. I make it down to the last few steps. At the penultimate one, I crouch down and peek around the corner. 

Nothing. 

I peek my head out a little bit further. Then I see it. A flash of all black. I turn and run up the stairs, panic making me sloppy. I think quickly, trying to be logical. If the stalker has been watching me, and by extension, the house, then he’ll know we leave our doors open. I slam my door closed, hoping it will work as a distraction, before dashing into Will’s room, skidding across the hardwood floor, and quietly opening his closet and praying it doesn’t squeak. Whatever deities are out there are apparently looking down on me, as the door closes smoothly. I tuck myself behind some coats, trying not to jostle them so the hangers won’t squeak in protest on the metal bar. I start covering myself in some of Will’s clothes, not caring if they haven’t been washed or not. 

The thumping on the stairs starts softly, crescendoing in time with my heart as the person comes up the stairs. My heart pounds, my breath coming in puffy gasps. My head feels hot, like it’s burning from the inside. I can’t see my hands, but I know they’re shaking. 

“Raquel!” The reedy, high pitched voice draws my name out, the cadence that of children playing hide and seek. “Don’t you want to play?” The syllables are dragged out, almost cartoonish in how long they are. I hear him open my door. I begin to think, knowing I don’t have much time to make a decision. Should I run for it? There’s no other way—he knows I’m here, he won’t just give up. I’m about to start uncovering myself when another idea occurs to me: Will’s window doesn’t have a screen. I can climb out and either jump down—potentially injuring myself, or climb up to the very top—maybe I can flag someone down? I just have to hope that he doesn’t find me first, that he doesn’t look too hard in Will’s room. 

“I came all this way,” his voice is too close for comfort. I stop breathing. “Just for you! And you don’t have the decency to come say ‘Hi’?” I push myself even further into the corner. I can see him, pale blue eyes that look slightly off. I know those eyes. 

“You left Virginia before we could become friends. Isn’t that rude? I had to find out where you were from your grandma? Or, what is it you call her?” He pauses for a moment. Can’t he continue his evil monologue somewhere else? A chill runs down my spine. Unless he already knows I’m here. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping against all hope that this is a really bad nightmare. “Gramma? Maw Maw? No, Grammy? Yes! That’s it.” 

Silence. I open my eyes. He’s staring right at the closet. He comes closer. 

_No no no no no no no no._ each word is a step. He opens the door. The door creaks. Maybe he’ll take that as a sign I’m not in here. I don’t even breathe. I can feel his lecherous gaze sweeping around the confined space, landing on me for a second. My heart’s pounding is deafening. He turns to leave. I hear his footsteps fade, his monologue continuing. I hear him in the bathroom, turning off the shower. Somehow, that’s almost creepier than when he looked in the closet. I slowly uncover myself, before getting into a crouch and shrugging into one of Will’s jackets. I wait, holding my breath. After counting to ten, I take a deep breath before quietly opening the door, just enough so I can squeeze out. I take off, the window the light at the end of the tunnel. I leap onto Will’s bed and lean over the headboard to successfully unlock the window. I begin to slide it up, the freedom of the outside air fresh and tart on my tongue when an arm snakes around my waist, the other hand covering my mouth. I bite down as hard as I can, my stalker swearing and letting go for a precious second. I claw at the window in desperation, attempting to free myself of the vice-like grip on my hips. I grip the sill, kicking him as hard as I can before throwing myself forward. I manage to get the upper part of my body out when he pulls on me again, more forceful. 

“Somebody help!” I shout. “HELP!” 

Just like before, no one comes. My hands refuse to let go of the sill despite his tugging. Half of the pressure eases up, and I begin rapidly kicking him as hard as I can, but besides a grunt, he ignores me, reaching above me. I realize what he’s doing too late, and he slams the window down on my fingers, causing me to yelp in pain and reflexively let go. Unfortunately for him, I do not plan on going easily, grabbing onto the headboard. 

“Come. On!” He groans out, but with my hands in pain, he’s able to get a solid grip on me, pulling me off. 

“Let go of me you rotten creep!” I begin flailing around, managing to clock him with a fist. He shoves me forward, even though I keep fighting. The socks I used for stealth before betray me know, he can easily slide me across the floor. I can feel my energy, sparked by adrenaline, beginning to wan. At the top of the stairs I think of a risky plan. He tries to force me down, but I hook one of my legs around his, pulling him towards me, down the stairs. I turn so that he’ll land underneath me, breaking my fall. I land, a sickening crack reverberates throughout the house. I’m not sure if it’s from his skull or my arm, which now has pain shooting up along every inch. I get up, pushing away from him, where he's lying motionless at the base of the stairs, and doing a half hobble-half run to the door. I seem to have sprained my ankle from my stunt. 

Once outside, I freeze, wasting precious time. I don’t have my keys, but I can’t go back in. I begin to move again, seeking safety. What if I killed him? The thought pulls me up short again. I’m about to run again when he grabs my injured arm, having managed to catch up to me silently. I let out a blood-curdling scream and try to pull away, gritting my teeth against the pain. He squeezes tighter, the pain making my vision go gray. He begins to pull me towards his car-a nondescript, everyday minivan. 

_Great. I’m going to be taken out by a guy who drives a suburban mom-car._ He relaxes, able to see I’m drained of most of my fight. He slides open the back door and attempts to put me in when I’m reminded of why I’m fighting. I stick my legs out, bracing myself of the car door and push back with everything I have, ignoring the protest from my bad ankle. He moves back, forcing me to drop my legs before slamming my head into the car door. 

“Why” _slam._ “Can’t” _slam._ “You” _slam._ “Just” _slam._ “Cooperate?” _slam._

My nose is bloodied, I can feel the blood seeping down my face. I’m dizzy and can’t see straight. 

_Well, Quel. You did your best. At least you’ll come back again, right?_ The thought crosses my mind, soothing in a morbid way, before the fight drains out of my body, and my world fades to a blissful, painless black.


	13. The Stalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence and blood

_Damn, my head hurts._ The thought breaks through the blossoming pain behind my eyelids. I start to tense up, remembering, before forcing my body to relax. It won’t do me any good if he realizes I’m awake before I can even start to plot in my mind. I realize my arms are bare—he took my, well, Will’s, jacket. Thinking his name brings my brother’s face into my mind. What I wouldn’t give for Will to be here right now. He’d have a plan in ten minutes and be executing it in fifteen. The thought sends an ache through my chest. If for no other reason, I am getting out of this alive for him. 

_And Emmett._ The traitorous voice in my head adds. I mentally roll my eyes before surveying my current damage, desire to survive stronger than ever. My mouth feels dry and like I tried to shove as many cotton balls as possible into it. My head hurts, I feel dizzy. Probably a concussion, then? I travel southwards mentally. My arms are tied tightly behind my back, and my left arm is screaming in protest. I’m pretty sure it’s broken, or at least a nasty sprain. My legs are sore, my right ankle feels kind of hot and swollen. Probably a sprain. I strain to hear past the ringing in my ears, but I get no audio feedback. I try to slowly open my eyes, but only my left one cooperates. A black eye. Great. I scan the floor, looking for shoes before raising my head. 

I’m in a dimly lit motel room. The walls are a chintzy olive green, and the carpet is—or was—a light blue, but years of stains of God knows what have made it a sickly beige color. I’m sandwiched between two beds with scratch navy blue covers. I’m facing an ancient TV, and there’s some kind of nightstand behind me. I feel around as quietly as I can, to see if I can figure out if there’s anything I can use to undo my bindings. I can’t tell what’s tying me up, my hands are numb. I look to my left. The windows have the heavy drapes pulled over them, the only light is coming from a small sliver of exposed window above the curtains. On my right, there’s a small bathroom. Linoleum floors, almost too-white walls. 

_Great. I’m going to die in a cheap motel._ I force myself to shake the thought out, though it makes me even dizzier. I hear the sound of a card being slid into a slot and the lock on the door clicks. I quickly drop my head and close my eyes. 

He comes in whistling. I want to see what’s going on, but I’m not going to chance any sudden movements. His footsteps make their way across the room, stopping to study me for a moment before entering the bathroom. The sink turns on, and I hear a glass being filled. He comes back into the main room. I have no warning when the icy water splashes onto me and I sit up and gasp. 

“Had a feeling you’d be awake by now.” He smirks. 

“Y’know what they say, a girl needs her beauty sleep.” I croak out. He laughs. 

“Lindsay always said you had a sense of humor.” I glare up at him. 

“How’s she doing?” I ask, hoping to distract him. 

“Not sure. I left her as soon as you left.” Bradley pulls out a chair from the table in the corner and sits on it backwards. 

“So you never liked her?” 

“There’s never been anyone other than you.” His eyes are so intense it hurts to look at. 

“NP?” I ask. _Keep him talking, Raquel._

“Ah, I should’ve explained.” He rubs his hand over his face, eyebrows furrowed. “Bradley’s my middle name. Nathan Bradley Peters. NP.” 

“Why go by your middle name at all?” 

“I couldn’t end the game early! Where’s the fun in having a secret admirer when you can figure out who it is so easily?” 

“Maybe it’s when you don’t terrorize the object of your… affection.” Disgust colors my tone. His face turns red, and he stomps over to me, picking my chin up in his hand so I’m forced to look at him. 

“You will treat me with respect, got it?” His eyes have no emotion. 

“Mmhmm.” I can’t open my jaw. He smacks me across the face and takes a seat on the bed closer to me. My face turns to the right, the ringing in my ears even louder than before. 

“I did all of this shit for you! I wrote you love notes, I sent you gifts. Red is your color by the way,” I resist the urge to vomit when he winks. “I did _everything_ right! And you weren’t even grateful. You women are all bitches. There’s such a nice guy in front of you, and you all go for jerks! You aren’t even that pretty, you should’ve been happy anyone liked you, let alone me. You should've been _begging_ me to give you attention!” He starts to pace, agitation riling him up. 

“And then, not only do you leave me before I could confess my love to you, you start dating that asshole, Emmett what’s-his-face! What does he have that I don’t? We’re meant to be together, Raquel, can’t you see that?” His voice takes on a deadly soft tone. 

“Respect. Respect for women. Respect for _me_ and my boundaries.” I say, glaring up at him. 

“What?” 

“You asked what Emmett has that you don’t. He has respect. Integrity. Human decency.” I almost laugh at the last two words and their irony. I shouldn’t have spoken like that, but I felt the need to defend Emmett. Almost as though I couldn’t bear to have someone slander him. 

“I respect you! I stayed a distance from you! You girls are all teases! You want everything, but when a man gives it to you, you claim you don’t want it! Make up your damn mind!” His pacing increases in tempo. Suddenly he comes right over to me and pulls out a knife, holding it up to my throat. 

“I could just kill you here and now and leave you like the nasty bitch you are for everyone to find you. I should.” I can feel sharp pressure as he presses it into my jugular. 

“You would do that,” I swallow, trying to make my voice less harsh. “to the girl you love?” 

I look down, praying my manipulation will work. 

“Oh, sweet cheeks, I would never.” He looks down in shock, dropping the knife. “I didn’t mean it. I just get angry, you know.” He leans down so he’s face to face with me. I reach behind me, rubbing my wrists on the corner of the nightstand, hoping to fray the material. 

“Hey, look at me.” His voice is soft. I shake my head, pretending to cry a little. 

“I said look at me!” He grabs my face roughly. The force nearly tipping my chair. He looks back to see my attempts to free myself. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Fury coats every word. He pulls the chair away from the small table, turning it so my back is against the wall under the television. 

“I’m sorry!” I plead. “My arms hurt, that’s all. It’s too tight.” I wince for effect. 

“Well, if you had come easily, I’d be able to trust you, now wouldn’t I?” His voice is mocking. He gets up and crosses to the table, where he has some pancakes, probably from the shabby reception room. Complimentary breakfast, my ass. He begins dousing them in syrup before using his fork to pick up pieces to shovel into his mouth. While his focus is on his food, I begin working at the bindings again. I can feel the material beginning to give. 

He finishes his breakfast, and the rest of the day passes slowly. He’s reading the paper when he looks up suddenly, acting like he saw something. He gets up and stalks towards me, knife in hand. 

“Did you tell anyone where you were?” His voice is an unsettling whisper. 

“No. How could I? I don’t know where we are.” 

“Stop the attitude!” He shouts, his arm swinging. I don’t realize what’s happened until I see the blood dripping on the knife and look down at my arm, where a decent-sized gash is open, blood trickling out. 

“Then why is there a silver Volvo out front? Your friends come to spring you, huh? Think you can get away that easily?” 

“It’s a common car.” I gasp, the knife slicing into my other arm. “I don’t know anything, I swear!” My tears this time are genuine. 

“And I don’t believe you!” A cut to my thigh. At this point I realize that there is no other choice. I won’t be able to reason with him. His mind is made up. He’s going to kill me, one way or another. I get my hands free and wait for a moment where he turns his back. He gets up, beginning to pace away from me, and I take my chance. I push up from the chair and bolt to the door, opening it and stumbling out into the decrepit hallway. I run down the carpeted hall, hearing him shout and curse behind me. I see an exit sign and follow it, throwing open a door revealing a cement staircase. I fly down the steps, ignoring the blood droplets that will inevitably lead him to find me. I get to the bottom of the stairs and feel the adrenaline rush wearing off. I feel confused and disoriented. I open a side door, and end up on the sidewalk outside of the hotel, I begin to stumble away, my legs turning to jelly. I trip over the lip of the sidewalk, landing in some spongy grass. I know I need to get up, I need to get help. But it feels like I’m in quicksand, my muscles completely refusing to cooperate with me. The evening sky is alight with some of the most beautiful colors I’ve ever seen, and I’m not sure if it’s because it might be the last one I see or my senses being sharpened by adrenaline. I hear the side door slam open and stumble up to my knees, crawling my way towards the Volvo. I don’t know if it’s Edward’s, but at this point anyone is better than the monster after me. I make it a few feet farther when he grabs my legs, pulling me like a sack of grain back towards the hotel. The skin on my arms is rubbed raw from the sidewalk, and my wrist screams in protest every time he goes over a crack. He gets me inside the stairwell and drops me. He circles me until he’s at my head, grabbing me under the arms and hoisting me up the stairs. He’s sweating from the effort, the smell making me nauseous. He pulls me down the hall back to the room before throwing me onto the bed closest to the door. Nathan leans against the door, panting from exertion due to carrying me up the stairs. He glares at me. 

“You really just don’t get it, do you?” He crosses his arms over his head. “We were supposed to have a happy ending, just the two of us.” 

“That was _never_ going to happen.” Now that I know I won’t get out of this alive, there’s no reason to hold my tongue. “I would _never_ date a cowardly, spineless, creepy bastard like you. I’d rather die.” 

He pushes off of the door angrily, stalking towards me. “You really mean that?” 

“Every last word.” I look him straight in the eye, sure that this is the beginning of the end. 

“Well, have it your way then.” He pulls the knife out of his boot, climbs onto the bed, straddling me. I strike out, but I’m nowhere near full strength, and he easily subdues my arms, pinning them to my chest. He raises the knife in his right hand. 

He doesn't know I’ve faced death before. I’ve died before. But eventually, I will come back. I will find Emmett again. But him? When he dies, wherever he goes, that’s where he will remain for eternity. A pathetic, weak, obsessive guy unable to move on or grow. 

I suspect he thinks I’ll take it all back or close my eyes and recoil, but I won’t. I repeat what one of my former selves said. 

“If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to have to look at my face when you do it.” The words reverberate with an intangible power. In this moment, I feel like I can see my past selves in my mind, I feel connected with these people that are both family and strangers all at once. I barely notice it when the knife sinks deep into my stomach. When he pulls it out, all I feel is warmth and a serenity. I can feel the comforter around me dampening with blood. Nathan grabs his things, and without sparing me a second glance, walks out the door, whistling the same tune he was this morning. 

In a futile attempt to save myself, I push down on the wound. All I do is curl myself into a fetal position. The quiet of the motel room brings a sort of morbid peace with it. I close my eyes, thoughts coming slower now. 

_It’s okay to let go._ The voice is simultaneously mine and not, a chorus of voices from my past lives, ready to accept me into their masses. I move my head, trying to nod. I begin to feel like my body is sinking, my soul rising. 

The door to the motel room bursts off its hinges, but I’m too gone to care that the stalker is back. 

“Oh, no you don’t! Carlisle! She’s in here! You do _not_ get to give up on me, Raquel! Do you hear me? Not when I’ve finally found you.” My brain refuses to process that Emmett’s voice isn’t in my head, that his hands stroking my hair aren’t figments of my imagination. 

“I swear to God, Raquel, if you die right now, I _will_ follow you to the afterlife and drag you back here.” Cool hands are touching me, gently opening my eyes and probing the wounds. 

“Emmett, can you handle it?” Carlisle’s voice is businesslike. 

“It’ll take too long for any of the others to get here.” 

“Then apply pressure here.” Freezing hands cover mine and press hard on my stomach. 

“Raquel? Can you hear me?” Carlisle asks. My mouth moves, but no sound comes out. I open my eyes to slits. 

“Raquel, we’re going to get you out of here, okay? We need to move her, now.” Carlisle says the second part to Emmett. A second pair of hands covers Emmett’s. 

“You carry her.” I’m airborne, wind whipping past me. I always thought your ascent to heaven was supposed to be calm, full of light and angels singing welcome songs. My head goes foggy for a bit, and when I come to again, I can feel a car beneath me, going way too fast to be safe. 

“Em…mett?” I manage to breathe out. One hand is stroking my hair, the other pressing on my stomach. 

“Raquel, angel, please don’t try to talk. Especially not while you’re bleeding.” I ignore him. 

“Nath…an Peters.” I whisper. And then I pass out again. 

✧❉✧

“Is she going to be alright?” Will’s voice is uncharacteristically melancholy and anxious. It’s also right by my head. There’s a persistent beeping, like the rhythmic nagging of an alarm clock. I open my eyes. 

“Isn’t there a rule about how many people you can have in a hospital room?” I huff out, the words garbled by the dryness in my throat. Five pairs of eyes stare me down. 

“I also think there’s a rule about not staring at the patient, making them uncomfortable.” 

My mom throws herself at me, tears refilling the tracks already on her cheeks. 

“Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry!” Sobs wrack her body. I try to reach down to pat her head, but my left arm is in a plaster cast and my right arm has an IV line running through it. 

“What do you have to be sorry for?” I ask, genuinely confused. 

“The stalker was back and I should’ve known. You were acting strange, but I chalked it up to a boy.” Emmett smirks from the back of the room, wiping over his mouth with his hand when my dad turns to glare at him. 

“Mom, that was on me. I should’ve told you my suspicions, but I didn’t want to be the reason we moved again. I didn’t want to be paranoid.” My dad steps over and kisses my head. 

“Your paranoia was warranted. We should’ve been more diligent.” 

“No, Dad. You guys were good. I’m the one to blame here. I should have told you. But anyway, all’s well that ends well, right?” My parents glare at me with matching expressions of fury. 

“ _Not_ when you’re in the hospital after almost dying because a stalker tried to kill you and almost succeeded. You are incredibly lucky Emmett heard you scream. And that Dr. Cullen was with him, young lady.” My dad is angrier than I’ve ever seen him. 

“What happened to him?” I ask, my eyes straying to Emmett, whose fists are clenched so tightly I’m sure he’s going to break the armrests of the chair he’s sitting in. 

“He was found a few blocks from the motel. Apparently, he got beaten up pretty badly. He’s in custody now.” Emmett offers from the corner. I mouth _thank you_ at him, and his eyes spark. 

“Let’s go find the nurse and doctor, shall we?” Rosalie picks up on how I’m looking at Emmett, clearly needing to speak with him, and she slings an arm around Will. “And you two need to eat. She’s not going anywhere.” My parents look like they want to protest, but Rosalie gives them a look that has them following her out the door. Emmett’s beside me before the door completely shuts. 

“Hi.” I say. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice is pained. 

“Oh, not you too!" I groan. "What do you have to be sorry for?” 

“I was so caught up with the tracker and protecting Bella—I didn’t check my phone. I had no idea that there was any danger…” He trails off, fist clenching. I reach over with my bad arm and bonk his hand, sending a small wave of pain up my arm. “If I had known, you’d have been safe. Esme and Rosalie could’ve kept an eye on you.” 

“It was my fault. I should’ve told somebody else, too.” 

“You got that right. I almost lost you. Before I had a chance to make everything up to you. I know you’ll probably want your space, but I just wanted to be here when you woke up.” He gets up as if to leave. 

“No! Stay, please. I want you to.” He reluctantly sits back down. 

“When I was bleeding out there, on the bed—” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“About the bleeding or me and you on a bed?” I tease. He laughs. 

“Both.” 

“Well, I was thinking. And one of the last thoughts I had before you burst in was that even if I died, I’d come back. And I’d come back to find you.” I take a deep breath. “This doesn’t mean that you’re completely forgiven for everything. Not even close, mister. But I don’t think I can stay away from you. Nor do I want to.” He grins and leans closer to me. The beeping accelerates. 

“Cute.” He sits back up, smirking. 

“Do you find everything I do cute?” 

“You bleeding wasn’t cute.” 

“Let me guess, that part was sexy?” His laugh booms, almost delirious in its relief that I truly am okay. Mentally, at least. 

“No. Very terrifying. I wasn’t sure… But I didn’t. Alice almost didn’t see you in time.” His eyes get a far-away look in them. 

“See me?” I’m confused. 

“She can kinda see the future. Or its possibilities. She and Edward have mental conversations. It’s frustrating. We can only hear Edward’s half. She saw you in a motel and sent all of us on a wild goose chase to find you.” He shrugs, like it’s nothing. 

“She can see the future?!” I’m stunned. “Wait, all of you? Including—” 

“Everyone but Edward. And Jackson. He’s new to this and well, if he had found you…” he makes a sucking sound with his mouth. “Edward’s still with Bella. She broke her leg, bled everywhere, and got bitten. Edward sucked the venom out.” 

“But she’s okay?” 

“Yes, and the tracker has been… dealt with. Focus on yourself for once, would you?” He ruffles my hair. 

“And Nathan?” 

“When Carlisle brought you here, I may or may not have taken the Volvo for a joy ride. And I may have practiced some boxing moves with that creep before turning him over to Charlie. I didn’t want to let him live, but…” He looks off. “I didn’t think you’d like it if I committed another murder.” 

“Yeah, I’m the only person you’re allowed to kill. Even then, it’s iffy.” He chuckles, grabbing onto my casted hand. 

“I am sorry about that.” He looks down at our hands. 

“I know. But you saved me this time around, that has to be worth something, especially since I smell irresistibly good.” I gently remove my hand from his and awkwardly stick my hand under his chin to get him to look at me. “How did you do it?” 

“I’m not sure. I had trouble with Bella bleeding everywhere, and I think of her like a sister. You smell a thousand times better to me. I guess I lo—” I cover his mouth with my hand. 

“Please tell me you were not about to say you love me for the first time in the hospital. Where I just got stitched up from a stab wound. And before you’ve everything up to me.” Emmett looks almost bashful. 

“Of course not. I was going to say I guess I lugged you to the car without breathing very much. You smelled kinda funky for a while. They gave you a blood transfusion. Or two. Or more. I lost count after a few. Did you know your blood type is AB positive?” I roll my eyes, but grin despite myself. 

“How bad is it?” I gesture down at my body. 

“Not bad at all.” He says, obviously checking me out. I whack him with my cast. “Twenty-seven stitches, a concussion, broken radius, sprained ankle, bruised knuckles, scrapes all over your arms, a black eye, and some internal bleeding from the major stab wound. They got it all under control, though. You’ll live. Probably.” I’m starting to feel tired, likely from my extensive list of injuries. Emmett notices and pushes a button for the nurse. 

“Thank Carlisle for me. Thank you, too. You’ll stay, right?” I ask as the nurse comes bustling in. 

“You ready for some more morphine?” I nod before turning back to Emmett. 

“I’ll be here. Ready to take you on a date once you’re out of here.” The nurse adds something to the IV bag hanging above me. 

“Who said I want to go on a date with you?” I mumble, the drugs dripping into my system alarmingly quick. Emmett laughs. The nurse also chuckles at my response on her way out. 

“Is that a no?” He teases. I can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Ask me again when I wake up.” It comes out slurred. My eyes droop closed. 

“Will do, angel, will do.”


	14. The Aftermath

When I’m finally released from the hospital, it feels like I’ve entered a weird, dreamlike world, in which I’m treated like a porcelain doll, easily breakable and to be handled with care. Even Will has been less boisterous than usual, a surefire sign that things are different. 

“Not you too.” I groan when Emmett shows up on my doorstep the Wednesday after I was attacked. My parents insisted I take at least a couple of days off, along with the insistence that I see a therapist when we find one. Forks itself doesn’t have any therapy practices, and my mom has been busy looking for a nearby option. I wanted to drive myself today, but Emmett has thwarted that plan. 

“Concussion, remember?” He reaches out and messes up my hair before sliding his hand down so my cheek is in his hand. 

“I was cleared, remember?” I reach up and attempt to reach his hair to muss it up, but I’m too short. He laughs and bends over, letting me get my revenge on his curls. 

“Carlisle thinks it’d be best if you don’t drive for a bit,” He adds after I close the door behind me. “Besides, are you that desperate to get away from me?” 

“No, it’s not that,” I pause. “I just want my life to get back to normal. I’m not breakable.” Emmett quirks an eyebrow at me. 

“By human standards, I mean.” I clarify. Emmett picks me up and carries me over to the Jeep. He tosses my cane and backpack in the back seat before crossing around to the driver’s side. 

“Raquel—let your body heal itself. And you don’t need to prove you’re a badass. You did that when you fought with that piece of—” 

“Then you’d think people would treat me like the badass I am.” I grumble, crossing my arms. 

“I do.” I look at him and raise my eyebrows. “Do you want to exhaust yourself before you even get to school?” 

“No.” I admit reluctantly. “Oh, we’re supposed to present our Spanish presentation either today or tomorrow. I have it on a flash drive. You’re doing even slides, I’m doing odds.” 

“Should we try to do it tomorrow? So we can practice?” The grin on his face gives away his flirty agenda. 

“Sorry, I’m too delicate to go on dates.” I sniff. 

“Okay, no dates.” He looks serious, steeling himself against my rejection. 

“I don’t mean not ever, you know that.” I put a hand on his arm, worried he couldn’t tell I was teasing. He turns into the school parking lot and glides into the space my car is usually in. He gets out, grabbing my stuff and helping me out before handing it to me. 

“I know,” a giant grin lights up his boyishly handsome face. “I just wanted to hear you say it.” He ducks out my way, so quickly it almost looks like he used vampire speed. 

“Emmett!” I shout after his retreating form, chasing after him as quickly as I can with a cane. “Get back here!” 

I can hear his laugh, ringing across the parking lot. He obeys me, and I’m slightly surprised. He keeps himself out of the range of my cane. 

“Yes?” His eyes sparkle with amusement. 

“That wasn’t nice.” I frown, reproving. 

“I’m sure you already have a plan for your revenge. Do you want me to carry your stuff?” 

“No, I got it.” 

“Then I’ll see you at lunch.” 

“I might sit with Angela and Jess. They’ve been dying to talk to me, now that Bella’s accident has fallen to the back burner in terms of new gossip.” 

“I can still wave at you, right?” I roll my eyes. 

“You can. Maybe if I’m feeling charitable I’ll wave back.” 

✧❉✧

As it turns out, I do feel charitable. Emmett waves at me with an extreme amount of enthusiasm, making me blush and shyly wave back. I take a seat sandwiched between Angela and Jess, who has her arm around me. 

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Jess asks, squeezing me like there’s no tomorrow. She pats down my arms, as if to assure herself that I am, indeed, fine. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I laugh, patting Jess’s arm so she’ll let go. 

“But still, you could have died!” 

“I didn’t. I’m fine, really.” Jess gets an evil glint in her eye. 

“Yup, thanks to Emmett,” she sighs. “Did he give you mouth to mouth?” 

“That’s when you aren’t breathing, Jessica.” I feel my face heating up. I refuse to look over at the Cullen table, where I’m sure Emmett will be laughing. 

“So he _did_?” Jess looks floored. 

“No.” I answer, a little curtly. 

“Jess, leave her relationship alone.” Angela steps in, gently derailing Jessica. 

“Thanks.” I sigh out, relieved. 

“Besides, we can get the nitty gritty details later.” Angela says over my head. 

“Hey! I thought you were on my side.” I complain. 

“I am. But I’m also on the side of being curious about the Cullens. Do you think he’s a good kisser?” Angela asks Jess. 

“Oh, totally. Have you seen his lips? And I bet his hair is so soft.” I tune Jess and Angela’s joking out, and my eyes, seemingly of their own accord, find Emmett across the room. He’s looking at me, of course, and he quirks an eyebrow at me. I can feel my face burning which just sends Angela and Jess into hysterics when they follow my line of sight. 

I don’t have to participate in gym, and for that I’m grateful. Coach Clapp lets me stay inside while the rest of the class heads out to the soccer field. I take the opportunity to begin working on all the work I’ve missed. Angela was kind enough to get my notes for me; however, teachers did not extend the same kindness to me even though I nearly died. 

I’m dreading the inevitable teasing from Emmett that’s sure to ensue from the conversation at lunch, but he seems preoccupied, talking animatedly to Edward about something. Edward’s frowning, and he nudges Emmett to end the conversation. I take my seat in front of Emmett, turning to look back at him, a question in my eyes. He shakes his head and mouths “later” to me. 

Class drags by as pairs of students slog through their projects. When Mrs. Goff calls Emmett and me up to present, Emmett helps me up out of my chair and lets me take a seat on the stool at the front of the room beside the computer. I plug in my flash drive and pull up our project. 

At first, everything goes without a hitch. Then about halfway through I remember what’s on the next slide and realize I never changed the sentences from when I angrily wrote them out. I look around at the sea of faces and lock eyes with Edward, who is clearly trying to hold in his laughter, aware of what’s coming thanks to his invasive power. I have no doubt that if he were human his face would be turning red with the effort. 

“And then we have…” I watch the wheels turn impossibly fast in Emmett’s head. For anyone not watching him, they wouldn’t have noticed the brief shock that covered his features. He recovers quickly, reading the rest of the slide. 

“An example of the correct use of the preterit tense is “estuve embarazada por nueve meses” because it has a specific time period during which I—I mean the speaker was pregnant. On the other hand, “yo estaba embarazada” is the proper use of the imperfect tense because the pregnancy could have been long ago and does not have a specific time frame.” I’m positive my face is red from trying to hold in my laughter. Emmett sends a glare back at me, and I move on to the next slide. 

I barely manage to make it through the rest of the slides, laughter threatening to burst out of me at any moment. A few moments after Emmett and I take our seats, a small, folded up sheet of notebook paper sails over my shoulder, landing neatly in front of me. 

_Not funny._

I stifle a giggle and write a response. 

_You asked about my revenge for this morning? Here it is._ I look over at Edward who, reading my intentions, holds out a pale white hand so quickly it blurs. I drop the refolded note into his palm, and in less than a second, it’s gone. Another second, and the note flies back over my shoulder. 

_How did you manage to slip that in within a few hours?_ I roll my eyes, though I know Emmett can’t see me. 

_I didn’t. I’ve had it in there since you abandoned me for two days to work on this alone. I was mad._ Rather than let Edward be the messenger, I drop the note on the floor, cover it with my boot and kick it back to Emmett. 

When class ends, Emmett wordlessly picks up my bag and wraps an arm around my waist, subtly helping me out. He lifts me up into the Jeep before crossing to the driver’s side. 

“Another benefit to me driving you is that Will likes the Jeep. He likes me too, you know.” 

“He just likes that you’ve promised to arm wrestle him at some point. When you do, you had better let him win.” I respond. 

“Of course.” 

The rest of the drive to the middle school is quiet. When we’re waiting in line I lean over and wrap my arms around his arm, resting the side of my head on his bicep. The maneuver is kind of awkward with the cast on my wrist, but he moves his arm to make it easier for me. 

“I’ve come to a decision.” I say. I can feel his eyes looking down at me. 

“And what might that be?” He asks, curious. 

“I decided that you can call me Quel.” I can feel him pull back from me to turn his full attention onto me. “But there is a condition.” 

“Of course. What is it?” 

“I get to call you Em.” I look up at his face. He’s grinning down at me. 

“Sure, I thought that was a given.” He turns back to face the line. I sit up when I see Will bounding towards us. He opens the back door and flings himself in. 

“Hey, Emmett!” His voice is filled with enthusiasm. 

“Hey, big man! What’s up?” 

“Not much. Hi Quel.” He says with decidedly less enthusiasm. 

“Hello to you, too,” I chuckle. “I see where I stand on your list of favorite people.” Will reaches around and squeezes me around the neck in a hug. 

“Oh, c’mon, Quel. You know it isn’t like that.” 

“I know. Can you loosen up before I pass out?” 

“Oops. Sorry!” He says, flopping back into his seat and fastening his seatbelt. 

Will chatters the whole way home, asking Emmett so many questions I think he must be annoyed, but one look at his face says he’s enjoying Will’s interrogation. When we get to my house, Emmett comes around to my side to help me out, gently setting me down and holding me a little closer than necessary. 

“Thanks,” I say as he hands me my stuff. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“I can’t come in?” He asks, mock pouting at me. 

“Of course you can! If she says no, you can hang out with me!” Will gets between me and Emmett. He pops up so suddenly I move to step back and lose my balance. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable jarring fall, but it doesn’t come. I open my eyes to see that Emmett caught me with one huge hand. 

“Careful, big man. Your sister’s still a bit fragile.” I stick my tongue out at him, but he only smirks. 

“Sorry, Quel!” Will says before dashing off into the house. 

“Do you want me to go?” Emmett asks, his face perfectly neutral. 

“No, you can stay, if you'd like.” I reply before heading off towards the house, Emmett keeping pace with me, though I know it must be painfully slow because of my slight limp. 

Emmett and I manage to get past my mom with only a few semi-invasive questions before heading up to my room, where Emmett has made himself at home on my bed. I silently debate where to sit when he sits up so he’s upright against the headboard and pats the spot next to him. 

“You know, most people would ask before climbing into a girl’s bed.” I tease. 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” 

“Next time.” I scoff, rolling my eyes. 

“You know, you have a problem with admitting you like me. When you were doped up on painkillers, you said some of the funniest things.” Emmett adds conversationally. He begins playing with my fingers, curling them and uncurling them. 

“Oh, God. What did I say?” I’d bury my face in my hands, but since Emmett has one captive, that makes that plan impossible. 

“Y’know, the usual incoherent stuff. Plus you did say you thought I was the most handsome guy you’d ever seen.” He laughs. 

“I said it for your ego, not that it needs a pep-talk.” I try, and fail, to hide my blush. 

“Would it make you feel better if I said you were the prettiest, funniest, most interesting girl I’ve ever seen? Plus I have been around a lot longer than you, so I can confirm this.” I look up into his amber eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. 

“So you’re saying you didn’t eat me the first time you saw me because I’m pretty? Prettier than my other selves?” I purse my lips. He looks taken aback for a second. 

“No, I didn’t eat you because that’s rude and I’ve learned my manners." He grins before getting more serious. "Every time you’ve looked slightly different, but your general features have stayed the same. So I’d say you look about the same. Granted, this is the longest I’ve seen you alive, for what it’s worth.” Though his words are serious, his eyes have a smile in them. 

“How are you managing to not, y’know…” I trail off. 

“It’s not easy. I’m not sure how Edward does it with Bella, either. Of course, he is a lot more melodramatic than me. He had a whole internal debate with himself of whether he should allow himself to even be in Bella’s vicinity. For me, and this is going to sound bad,” He pauses, turning his eyes to mine. “But I’ve always been of the “if it happens, it happens” variety. In fact, I didn’t discourage him from drinking Bella’s blood. Slip ups happen, even for us. I think since I’ve accepted there’s a good possibility I would’ve killed you and still could, it’s almost easier to be around you. I know that sounds convoluted, but I think now my motivation for keeping you around is the fact that I do like you. A lot. It goes beyond my physical need now.” I take a few minutes to digest his words. I take his hand holding mine and begin aimlessly doodling on the soft, cold surface. 

“Did I scare you off?” He asks, trying to keep his tone playful and failing. 

“No. I appreciate you telling me the truth.” I lay my head on his shoulder. 

“Are you free Friday?” He asks suddenly. 

“Maybe. It depends on how fragile I’m feeling.” Emmett’s laugh is silent, I can only tell he is by the shaking of his shoulders. 

“Let me take you out. Please.” I sit up to look at him. 

“Okay. But I’m driving myself from tomorrow onwards. I feel fine, Emmett. Carlisle said I can get a brace for my wrist soon, anyway.” 

“Alright. It’s a date.” Emmett grins at me. He gets a mischievous look in his eyes, and I immediately regard him with suspicion. “I also recall Jess asking you about my kissing skills.” 

I groan. “I knew you were going to have a field day with that.” 

I drop my head into my hands. Emmett nudges me until I look up at him. The smirk on his face fully shows off his dimples. 

“Aren’t you curious? Shouldn’t you kiss me, y’know, for science? I’m sure Jess and Angela would like you to report on the matter.” His voice is hypnotic. 

He slowly leans towards me his eyes flashing between my lips and my eyes. I close my eyes, anticipating the kiss. He smells incredibly good, citrus and earth. Right when he’s about to kiss me, he pauses. I open my eyes, annoyed, when I see he isn’t looking at me. 

Following his gaze, I find Will. One hand on the doorknob that he opened, the other on the frame of the door. A single beat of silence. Then, Will yells. 

“Mom! Emmett and Raquel are kissing!” He shouts, running down the stairs. 

“We were not! Will, get back here!” I chase after him. Emmett just laughs, I can hear him all the way down the stairs. 

When I catch up to Will, he’s already made it down the stairs. My mom is looking at us wide-eyed from the kitchen. 

“MOM! Raquel and Emmett were kissing!” 

“We were NOT!” I yell, covering Will’s mouth with my hand. Will licks my hand. 

“Ew!” I pull my hand away in shock, wiping it on Will’s shirt. 

“Hey!” He complains. 

“Raquel, William, knock it off,” My mom says in her “serious mom” voice. “Raquel, I think it might be time for Emmett to go. Before you scar your brother for life.” 

“Mom!” I yelp out in embarrassment, my face turning red. She only smirks. I turn around to go get Emmett only to bump into him, he must have silently made his way down the stairs. 

“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Lewis,” He says to my mom before turning to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? And Friday evening, too.” 

“Friday evening?” My mom asks. Emmett grins. 

“Raquel and I have a date.” My mom tries to hide her smile, a sure sign she’s about to embarrass me, 

“Well, I’m sure you two can finish your conversation on Friday then.” My blush turns into a full-on flush. 

“Mom.” I groan, dropping my head in my hands. She laughs before heading back to the kitchen. 

“I’ll walk you to your car.” I say to Emmett. He grabs my hand, says goodbye to Will, and leads me out the front door. 

“That was mortifying.” I grumble, still trying to hide my face. 

“Aw, Quel.” Emmett says, wrapping me in a bear hug. I feel his lips touch my hair. “On the bright side, I now know that I can most likely kiss you without murdering you.” I can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I guess that's a plus.” I say begrudgingly, pulling away from him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. And I’ll be looking forward to finishing our “conversation” on Friday.” He grins when I flush again, quickly getting into the Jeep before I can respond. I wave at him, smile, and head inside, more excited about this date than I want to admit.


	15. The Real Deal

“No way, no way, no way!” Jessica squeals at lunch on Friday when I tell her about my date with Emmett. “How did he ask you? Where are you going? What are you wearing? We need _details_ , Raquel. Details.” 

“We were just hanging out at my house,” _and rudely interrupted by Will_ , I add mentally. “I’m not sure, and I’m not sure. Maybe just this?” 

I gesture down to the gray heart-patterned sweater and jeans combo I have on. Jess gives me a look of horror, like I just told her I killed her puppy. 

“No. Nope. Not a chance. This is an intervention. Angela? Bella? We’re having an emergency meeting at Raquel’s after school. We cannot let her go out like that—with Emmett Cullen, no less.” Angela looks excited, Bella, not so much. 

“But—” Jess holds up a hand to stop me and closes her eyes as though that will prevent her from hearing my words. 

“No buts. The only ‘but’ you are allowed to talk about is Emmett’s.” I gape at her. 

“And we will expect details.” Angela adds. Bella looks amused by my chagrin. 

“I-I—” 

“It’s settled, we’ll be over at four.” Jess grins. 

I mope through gym, stressed knowing that Emmett will fully tease me for Jess and Angela’s conversation. To my surprise, Emmett doesn’t mention it. 

“So, I’ll pick you up at five? Or,” A sly look comes into his eye. “Will you and the girls need more time to get you ready?” 

So much for him not bringing it up. 

“Five is fine. Gives them less time to come up with even more ways to embarrass me.” Emmett laughs. 

“I’ll be sure to rescue you at five then.” 

✧❉✧

“Definitely not that one.” Jess says, pointing to the fifth outfit we’ve gone through since she, Angela, and Bella came over. 

“Why not?” I demand, holding the gray long-sleeved dress up to my front. 

"Because you’re not trying to look like a figure skater.” Jess takes the hanger out of my hands and tosses it on my bed, along with the other rejected outfits. 

“You never know, Jess,” Angela calls out casually from inside my closet, where she’s sifting through my rack of the outfits the girls deemed “date-worthy." “Emmett might be into that.” 

“Would you guys stop teasing her?” Bella asks, seated at my desk. 

“She’s more likely to talk about her relationship than you are.” Jess points out, crossing over to take the dress Angela holds out and bringing it over to me. 

I hold it up to my frame, and Jess steps back and makes a rectangle with her hands, appraising me like a work of art. 

“I like that one. If you curl her hair and add some makeup, it’s perfect. Classic, casual, and cute.” Bella offers. Jess considers for a minute before sending me into the bathroom to change. 

I pull the dress on over my head before inspecting the mirror. The dress is navy, with a dual layered skirt and a deep gray chiffon overlay with flowers that covers my shoulders, looking like a t-shirt. I pull on some sheer tights for a little more coverage on my legs—even spring in Forks is chilly. 

“Can you zip me up?” I ask Bella, holding my hair up so she can access the zipper unfettered. 

“What do we think?” I ask, twirling. Jess grins, and Angela flashes me a thumbs up from behind her. 

“Sit down. We are fixing your hair. Do you wear makeup normally?” Jess babbles. 

“Okay,” I take Bella’s old spot at my desk while she moves to the bed. “I wear makeup every day. I just wear concealer and mascara.” I shrug. 

“Well, we’ll just make your makeup a little more suitable for a date night.” Jess says. 

I eye her warily as she begins applying, patting, and blending makeup onto my face. She thankfully lets me do my own mascara, as my eyes flutter way too much when she’s within a few inches of my eyes. After dousing me in a layer of setting spray, Jess hands me a mirror. My eyes have a subtle smoky effect, with a mid-tone gray eyeshadow expertly diffused into my crease. My lashes are lengthened, my lips and cheeks rosy. Angela fusses over my hair, gently curling it with some product. 

“Jess, Ang, I love it! Thank you.” I say, turning my face this way and that in the mirror. 

“One last thing.” Jess says, stooping over and grabbing something out of her bag. She pulls away to hold up her prize: a pair of black ankle boots with a chunky heel. 

“Jess, those are way too high for me. I’ll die wearing them. Or at least, sprain an ankle. Again.” I give her a reproving look. 

“You’ll be fine. I’m sure Emmett will let you lean on him if you need the support.” She nudges me with her shoulder before kneeling down and forcing my feet into the boots, an unwilling Cinderella. 

“Okay, okay. You’ve all had your fun. Now go! Before he gets here.” I shoo them out, flapping my arms at them frantically. 

“You’d better not hold back on the details!” Jessica calls out one last threat as Bella shoves her into the car. I close the door and lean back against it, huffing out a breath. 

“Ready for your date?” My mom asks, grinning at me. 

“I guess. I didn’t think I was that nervous but…” I shrug. 

“Sit down. Deep breaths. You know Emmett, you like him a lot. He likes you, too, you know. I can see it when he looks at you. And in the hospital? He was so worried about you. Not to mention, the boy’s a looker.” 

“Mom!” I complain, her pep-talk ruined by her talking about Emmett’s looks. 

A knock on the door saves me from her further embarrassment. I spring up out of the chair and hurry as fast as I can in my deadly boots over to the door. 

“Saved by the doorbell.” I grumble, flinging the door open. 

Emmett smiles down at me, his dimples prominent. He’s wearing a long-sleeved gray t-shirt and dark wash jeans, unbothered by the chill. 

“Hello. Did you miss me?” 

“Hmmm… Only because Jess, Angela, and Bella decided to play dress-up.” Emmett offers me his hand, and I take it. 

“Well, you look lovely. Not that you don’t always look lovely, you do, it’s just—” I’m fairly certain he’d be blushing if he were still human. 

“I know what you mean,” I giggle. “Thank you.” 

I notice for the first time that he’s driving the Volvo and not his Jeep. I turn to look at him, my question in my eyes. 

“Alice saw you’d be wearing a dress, and figured it’d be a bit easier for you to get into the Volvo.” Emmett says with a shrug. 

“That’s considerate of her, even if it’s a little invasive.” 

“Trust me, if you spend any time with Alice, her invasiveness is the least of your problems. Ask Bella.” Emmett chuckles as he closes my door behind me and crosses to the driver’s side. I notice the jean jacket hanging on the back of my seat when I’m fastening my seatbelt. 

“Alice also saw you’d be cold.” Emmett says, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Is this her jacket?” I ask. 

“No, it’s mine. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” 

“We’ll see.” No reason to give in so early on, even if I am a bit chilly. 

Emmett pulls out of my driveway with ease, barely even looking behind the car. 

“That reminds me,” I begin, picking at invisible lint on my skirt. “Where are we going? You don’t eat human food, and as much as I would love to spend time with you around a deer you’ve just killed, I don’t think that’s the pinnacle of romance.” 

“Well, there goes my plan.” He replies, amused. 

“I figured we’d could go to a spot I know. If you’re hungry, we can get some takeout beforehand.” 

“No, I actually ate before you came. I didn’t want you to be watching me shoving food in my face.” I look down and start playing with my hands. 

We drive in silence for a bit before Emmett turns down a familiar path. 

“We’re going to your house?” I can’t fully conceal the panic in my voice. 

“Yes and no. The spot I’m taking you to is near somewhat near our house, it’s easier to get there by foot. I’m just going to park the car so Edward doesn’t kill me.” 

“There’s one problem with traveling by foot. Jessica put me in these death traps.” I say, pointing to my heels. 

“No problem. I’ll carry you, since you seem to enjoy it so much.” Emmett adds with a smirk. “And the rest of them went hunting, I figured you wouldn’t want them to be listening in.” 

When Emmett parks the car and gets out, he flashes over to my side as I’m pulling his jacket on and rolling up the sleeves. I look up at him, a little dazed. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use your full speed before.” 

“Well, babe, you’re about to see it firsthand.” He says, gently pulling me out of the car and slinging me onto his back. 

He takes off into the forest, running faster than any human—or animal could ever hope to. The forest blurs around me, and though it’s scary to see branches and brambles pass inches from my face, I can’t close my eyes. Emmett stops by a small stream, gently setting me down. 

The clearing is small and ringed with pine trees. There’s a babbling brook, complete with a small waterfall and moss-covered rocks. Despite the chill of the air, there’s a wave of warmth coming from the pool above the waterfall. 

“It’s a hot spring. Vampires don’t get cold, but the warmth is nice nonetheless.” Emmett says from behind me. I take a seat on one of the rocks, gently dipping my finger into the water, watching the ripples made by my finger breaking the surface. 

“I like it.” I say as Emmett joins me on an adjoining rock. 

“I’m glad. When it’s especially sunny, I like to come here. Edward has a place he likes to go, but he banned me from going there after I did a one-man reenactment of his internal drama on-site.” I laugh. 

“You enjoy teasing him a lot.” 

“He makes it easy.” 

“So you can go out in the sun? Why don’t you?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. 

“I might get to show you. Alice said there’d be a brief break in the clouds.” Emmett looks up at the sky, as though he can summon the sun by mentioning his psychic sister. 

“You aren’t going to burn up into a crisp, right? Because that would definitely put a damper on this date.” Emmett laughs. 

“Nope. She said it would be about now.” As Emmett mutters about Alice’s vision, it comes to fruition. 

I’m blinded. Emmett’s skin, pale white, reflects with what looks like hundreds of tiny crystals that appear to be embedded within. 

“You… glitter?” I ask, slightly confused. Emmett laughs, the sound echoing off of the trees. 

“Yeah. Carlisle doesn’t understand it. Edward thinks it’s the mark of being a monster. I think of it as being a portable disco ball.” I laugh at that. 

I reach towards his hand. “May I?” 

Emmett extends his hand so it’s within my reach. I gently take it in mine, tracing my finger over it, as though I expect there to be an uneven texture, but it’s still soft, a silk-covered statue. 

Too soon, the clouds re-conceal the sun, and Emmett stops glimmering. 

“Do you miss being human?” I ask after a bit, still tracing aimless patterns on his skin. 

“Not really,” Emmett moves to sit in the grass beside me and begins plucking small wildflowers, weaving them together. “I mean, I hated leaving my family. They lost a son who could provide for them. But I figured it was better this way, where I could take care of them from the sidelines rather than just being their idiot son who was killed by a bear. And besides, I wouldn’t have met you if I wasn’t turned.” He grins up at me. 

I contemplate his answer, reaching out and running my hands through his hair, following the paths of his curls. “You also wouldn’t have killed me if you weren’t turned.” 

He looks back to make sure I’m joking. I smile reassuringly. 

“You know, there’s a strong possibility that you’ve had other lives, I just didn’t kill you in those. Maybe we were meant to be, some way or another.” 

“I don’t suppose there’s any way to find out.” I sigh. 

“Carlisle’s been trying to look into it, and the existence of other old souls as well. But you can’t exactly Google it.” 

“I can imagine.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” Emmett tilts his head back to look at me. 

“Of course.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why haven’t you moved back to Virginia? Your stalker’s gone, you wouldn’t have to live in fear anymore.” 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I tease, but I think he senses my undertone of insecurity and worry. 

“Not at all. I just figured you’d want to go back to where your home is.” 

“Don’t they say home is where the heart is?” I ask slowly. 

“I thought you banned me from saying cheesy things.” Emmett complains. 

“You assumed I was talking about you? I was referring to my family, Angela, Jess, Bella. The usual suspects.” 

“I’m not on that list?” Emmett asks, his golden eyes turning sad. 

“Of course you are. But you just reprimanded me for being cheesy.” 

Emmett reaches up and helps me down so that I’m seated beside him. He picks up the flowers he’s braided together and sets it onto my head. 

“Did you make me a flower crown?” I ask, excitement seeping into my voice. 

“I did.” Emmett chuckles, seeming a bit surprised by my enthusiasm. 

“Thank you!” I squeal, flinging my arms around him and nuzzling my face into his shoulder. I can’t tell why this small gesture means so much to me, but it’s incredibly sweet. The small flower crown means more since he made it especially for me. 

“You’re welcome.” Emmett laughs softly, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair. 

“You smell good.” He says after a moment. 

“So do you,” I reply. “Is this uncomfortable for you?” 

“I mean, like I said before, it’s definitely not pleasant, the burn. But I think it’s worth it.” I gently extricate myself, pulling back to look at him. 

“I don’t want to make you suffer.” I say quietly. 

“That’s just how it is, Quel. It’s okay, really. I’m a tough guy, if you haven’t noticed.” Emmett dramatically flexes his muscles, already well-defined in his shirt, making the shirt constrict even tighter around his biceps. 

“Are you trying to impress me? It’s not working.” I lie, acting nonplussed and checking my nails. 

“Are you sure?” Suddenly, he’s much closer, his eyes more intense, like gold glinting in the sun. 

“Positive.” I whisper back, my voice barely audible. 

Emmett’s lips softly touch mine, cool and smooth, supple and soft. My eyes close, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His hands splay themselves on my back, securing me to his solid form, his scent around me, an inescapable, delectable perfume that invades my nostrils and settles on my tongue. Heat makes its way through my body, seeming to light all of my nerves as though they’re lanterns on a string. The chill of his lips does nothing to quell the growing heat coursing through my veins. I’m glad I’m sitting down because I’m positive, were I standing, that my legs would collapse under me. One of Emmett’s hands makes its way up to cup my shoulder, then gently moves to my hair, stroking it. As much as I hate clichés, this kiss feels like every single one in the book—and more. Too soon, much too soon, Emmett gently pulls away from me. I chase after him with my lips, and I feel him smile into the kiss as he indulges me one last time. 

“For someone so worried about my discomfort, you can’t seem to get enough of me.” He grins, still running his hand through my hair. 

I’m too flustered to respond, my breath embarrassingly ragged. 

When I compose myself, I respond. “I take it back. I don’t care how much it hurts you to be around me if you kiss me like that again.” 

Emmett laughs before settling back against the rock, pulling me so that I’m tucked under his arm. 

“As much I love to oblige you, and I’m glad you’re finally admitting you like me, we should probably take it slow. I’d really hate to kill you now.” He’s still smiling, but his eyes are tight. 

“What if there’s a trade?” I ask, pursing my lips. 

“A trade?” Emmett sounds surprised and amused, looking down at me with one of his eyebrows raised. 

“I’ll tell you how I really feel, completely, if you kiss me again.” Emmett considers my deal, I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. 

“No.” 

“No?” I ask, pulling away from him. 

“I’d rather save it. After all, this is our first date. You don’t want to be too forward, do you?” 

“Maybe I do.” I cross my arms over my chest, indignant. 

“Come here.” He says, pulling me back to his side. “I don’t want to test my luck with you. Raincheck, okay? I promise.” He adds tenderly. 

I hold out my pinky, and Emmett wraps his around mine, dwarfing it. He then quickly pulls my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckle. 

“Let’s get you home, shall we?” He stands up in one fluid motion, offering me a frigid hand. When I’m up, he keeps our hands joined, and we walk hand-in-hand back to the car, ending the date with promises and anticipation of the future of our relationship.


	16. Back to the Cullens

The next morning, I pull on a plain white t-shirt and a pair of short overalls. I throw my hair up into a ponytail before heading downstairs. 

Before I can even grab my customary Pop-Tart, my mom starts bombarding me. 

“How was your date?” She asks, perched at the kitchen table, ready to strike. My dad, who I’d managed to keep in the dark, is sitting beside her, sipping his coffee. That is, until he hears about my date when he spits out his coffee, looking at me wide-eyed. 

“Date?” He chokes, wiping his mouth with the paper towel my mom grabs for him. 

“You didn’t know? She went out with that Cullen boy.” 

“I thought you said you were just friends.” My dad is accusatory, eyeing me with the suspicion I assume he reserves for suspects in his private investigations. 

“At the time you asked, we were. It was just a date. Not a big deal.” The last thing he needs to worry about is this date. He _should_ feel worried that Emmett is a vampire that has quite literally killed me in the past, but that’s neither here nor there, and I don’t want to worry him further. At that moment, the doorbell rings and my mom heads to open the door. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lewis. Is Raquel in? I wanted to see if she’d like to go out and spend the day with me.” Emmett’s baritone voice is impossible to mistake. I hurry over to the front door, hoping to prevent my mom from embarrassing me, grabbing my coat on the way, throwing it over my arm. 

“That’s right! I almost forgot, Emmett and I made plans for today. I’ll be back this evening, okay? Love you!” I say in a whirlwind, throwing on some sneakers and closing the door behind me, pulling Emmett along behind me. 

“Go, go, go!” I mutter, making Emmett laugh. 

“Something wrong? Or are you just that enthused to see me?” 

“Unless you want the third degree from my father, who just found out about our date, we need to get out of here. Now.” Emmett helps me up into the Jeep before crossing to the driver’s side. 

“Where are we going?” I try to hide my hope that we’ll be going back to the small clearing. 

“My house. Esme misses you, and Alice has been pestering me nonstop to meet you again. She’s disappointed that Bella does not share her love of fashion. She has higher hopes for you.” 

“I have a feeling she’ll be disappointed again.” 

When we make it to his house, Emmett helps me out of the Jeep. When he sets me on the ground my stomach grumbles, reminding me that I made my escape from my house before I got any breakfast. 

“C’mon, let’s get you something to eat.” Emmett says, guiding me towards the house with a hand on the small of my back. 

“You have food? Like, human food?” I ask. Emmett just laughs and holds the door open for me, ushering me inside. 

Esme is seated on a white plush couch, watching—or, pretending to watch—TV. She rises once I’ve crossed the threshold, approaching me and offering a hug. I step into her chilly embrace, her soft caramel-colored curls brushing my cheek. 

“I’m so glad you’ve come back, Raquel. I was so worried when you were kidnapped and we almost lost you. I felt as though I failed you.” 

“Esme,” I squeeze her tighter, knowing I can’t hurt her. “Please don’t blame yourself. I’m alive, thanks to Emmett and Carlisle.” She releases me, stepping back and gesturing at me to follow her to the impeccably clean, clearly never-used kitchen. She sits beside me at the giant table while Emmett goes rummaging through cabinets. 

“Do I need to worry about him trying to cook?” I whisper to Esme, well aware Emmett will hear me. 

“Not at all,” She laughs, the sound tinkling like chips of ice falling onto glass. “In the pantry, Emmett.” 

He immediately changes course, grabbing something out of the pantry that Esme points to. He comes over to me and drops the silver foil packet in front of me. I look down at it, then up at Emmett. 

“How did you know I like these?” I ask, opening the package of Pop-Tarts and popping a piece into my mouth. 

“You’ve showed up to school with crumbs on your face a few times.” 

“Well, thank you.” I say, wiping my mouth as though the ghost of the Pop-Tart crumbs remains on my face. I begin munching on the pastries in silence, feeling self-conscious as the only one eating. 

“Where’s Alice? You said she wanted to talk.” 

“I’m right here.” Her soprano voice is right behind me, and I choke on my Pop-Tart. Esme pats my back while I cough. “Oops, sorry, should’ve seen that one coming.” 

She slides into a seat across from me. 

“Speaking of, how does your power work? I’m curious.” 

“Well, you know I see the future,” she starts. “I don’t just see one future, since the future is based on decisions—think of it like the reverse butterfly effect. Instead of a small change affecting everything afterward, I see all the possible afterwards that can result from one small action.” 

“Why do you bother having conversations then? Wouldn’t you just see how I would respond?” 

“Not quite. I can’t see what you think, and since I haven’t asked you a question, I can’t see how you’d respond exactly because that requires more knowledge than I have access to. And you could choose to lie to me or otherwise deceive me in the moment, and I’d be none the wiser.” 

“How far into the future can you see?” 

“Not too far, reverse butterfly effect, remember? It gets too muddled.” She shrugs. 

“Do you have a gift?” I ask Esme. 

“Not a tangible one like Alice or Jasper. I think if anything I’m a protector. I treat my children as though they’re mine biologically—that includes you now, too. And I will do _anything_ to keep my family together and safe.” 

“Not everyone gets gifts. Carlisle thinks it has to do with our strongest human traits being carried over.” Alice adds. 

“And what’s yours?” I ask Emmett, acting unamused. 

“I thought it was obvious. My sexiness.” Emmett does a slow full turn, letting me soak in the impact of his “power.” I choke on my Pop-Tart again. 

“Do you know of any human that’s built like Emmett?” Esme asks. I think about it for a minute. Emmett’s huge, muscular, but not the almost unnatural degree that bodybuilders are. There’s a litheness to his body that should be contradictory, but it’s natural for him. His strength, from what I’ve seen, is unmatched. 

“No, I guess I don’t.” I mumble, blushing when Emmett catches my eye and winks at me. 

“Raquel, come on! I have so much to show you. Bella doesn’t like fashion or anything remotely stylish, but I have a good feeling about you.” Alice says the second I swallow my last bite of Pop-Tart, hopping up to drag me off to her closet as her latest human model. Emmett throws out an arm to stop her in her tracks. 

“Alice, Carlisle wants to check on her wrist—he said she might be ready for a brace now. And besides, she is _my_ girlfriend, I’d like to spend some time with her. Alone.” Emmett teases. Alice sticks her tongue out at him before zipping away, off to who knows where. I get up and begin making my way to the stairs when Emmett picks me up. Again. 

“What’s your excuse this time?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“For old time’s sake?” He grins at me. “And I’m much faster than you.” 

To prove his point, he uses his full speed on the stairs, the wind he creates making my ponytail fly around, pulling loose hairs out and causing them to land in a disarray around my face. He nudges the door to Carlisle’s study open, still holding onto me. 

“Hey, Zaddy. Raquel is here to see if you can remove that giant cast from her arm.” As he says this, Emmett sets me down on the desk where my forehead was stitched up. 

“I don’t know what that means, but I have a feeling I don’t want to know.” Carlisle pushes his chair away from his desk, rises, and comes over to me, gently taking my casted hand into both of his. 

“I think we’ll have to take this off, I’ll see if the bone has healed enough to warrant a brace, and we’ll go from there. Unless you want to go to the hospital so I can confirm that your wrist is healed enough. How does that sound?” 

“Good. But, uh, how are you going to cut it off? There isn’t one of those little saw machine thingies they use here, is there?” 

“Nope! That’s where I come in, babe.” Emmett looks almost too gleeful, gently taking my hand in his and with a splitting _crack_ breaks the cast in two so the fabric portion is visible in the fissure. He grins at me and winks, seemingly unruffled by the potential to accidentally injure me. Carlisle takes the cast all the way off and begins to inspect my arm, his cool hands applying pressure in various areas and bending my wrist this way and that. 

_Have I always been_ that _pale?_ I wonder to myself. 

“I think you’ll be fine in a brace. So long as you wear it, I think you may be out of it completely in time for prom.” Carlisle smiles as he fits the brace he grabbed out of a cabinet to my arm. 

“Cool.” I say once the brace has been secured, thanking Carlisle and heading into the hallway. 

“So,” I begin. “When do I get to see the rest of the house?” 

“Right this way.” Emmett takes me around the second floor, pointing out various rooms as we go. He leads me up the stairs, where he points out Esme and Carlisle’s room and one at the end of the hall. He holds a finger up to his lips to be quiet before creeping over to the door and opening it. 

Inside, Edward is brooding, muttering out loud so quickly I can’t understand, but I think I make out the words “Bella” and “monster.” He snaps to attention when he sees the door opening. 

“Emmett! Personal boundaries! We’ve had several family meetings about this!” He stomps over before slamming and locking the door. He reopens it after a second. 

“Hello, Raquel. Please try to teach my brother some manners.” He then recloses the door, locking the door with a resounding _click_ after throwing a glare at his brother. I raise an eyebrow at Emmett. 

“See? Easy to mess with.” He says, wrapping an arm around me and leading me back to the second floor. He stops in front of a door he didn’t name. 

“The only room you should care about. Mine.” He throws open the door. I step inside, curious to the max. 

There’s a photo collage on one wall, some pictures black-and-white, sepia, polaroids, there’s even what looks like a portrait in there. There’s a shelf of books, and a black desk with various odds and ends strewn about it. There’s a double bed pushed up against a wall, with a navy comforter and matching pillows. There’s also a black sectional sofa around a low mahogany coffee table, facing a massive, expensive flat-screen TV and a door that I assume leads to a closet. The room itself is minimalistic, with cream colored walls and wooded floors, there’s a decent sized window, enough to let natural light in, but not large enough that it’s the focal point of the room. I cross the room to the bed, flopping onto it and rolling to face Emmett. 

“Draw me like one of your French girls?” I ask, assuming the pose Rose pulls from _Titanic_. Emmett just laughs. 

“Y’know, I recall someone I know telling me that one should ask before climbing into another person’s bed.” He’s leaning against the doorframe, looking amused. 

“You’re right. I guess I’ll go spend some time with Alice, since you don’t want me here.” I force dejection into my voice, getting up to exit. When I got to duck under his arm, I’m suddenly picked up like a football and find myself back on the bed, all within the blink of an eye. 

“Was that really necessary?” I ask Emmett, slightly out of breath, who’s lying beside me, one giant arm slung across my body, keeping me trapped on the bed. 

“No, but I was under the impression you liked it when I was in very close proximity to you.” His voice is soft, his scent creating an intoxicating cloud around me. I prop myself up on an elbow and pull him closer to me before leaning down and touching my lips to his. 

Just as magnetic as the first time, the coolness of his lips is comforting, sending endorphins zipping around my body. He wraps me in a hug, pulling me flush against him. His lips are delicate on mine, barely moving, adjusting their pressure to fit mine. When I pull away for air, rolling onto my back, Emmett’s lips move to my throat, slowly tracing up and down. His left hand traces the same pattern along my side, moving from my ribcage to my hip. 

“Is that not extremely painful for you?” I ask, wanting the answer but not wanting him to stop. 

“It gets easier. Mainly after I’ve hunted. Does this worry you? I can stop.” He tries to pull away, but I reach an arm around to force him back. I can feel his smile before he begins planting kisses on my neck, cheek, and occasionally on my collarbone. 

“No, I like it. I think it’s romantic, in a way. Besides the obvious.” 

“What do you mean? I enjoy hearing you gush about me.” I roll my eyes. 

“I’m not going to if you’re going to act like that.” I complain. Emmett tips my head to face him with one of his fingers and kisses me again, cupping the side of my face with his hand, caressing my cheek with his thumb. My nerves, overwhelmed, begin to feel fried. I sigh into the kiss, wrapping an arm around him again. He pulls away before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 

“I’m sorry. Does that make up for it?” 

“No.” I say, stretching my face up to get another kiss. He turns his face away so I can’t reach his lips. 

“No, no, no. You’re pushing your luck, and my self-control here.” I settle for leaving kisses on his neck before settling my head into the crook of his shoulder. I move his hand, which had come to wrap around me, back to my hip, where he returns to tracing the line of my body. 

“I guess it has to do with the myth of vampires, you know? Biting necks and things like that. But the fact that you can kiss me there, and not, you know, kill me is romantic.” 

“Nothing like the threat of danger to bring out attraction, huh?” He asks, a smile evident in his voice. 

“Well, there’s that, but it also gives me more reason to trust you. Since you’re all up on one of my most vulnerable areas and showing that you like me more than you want to kill me. The power of choice, I guess.” 

“I don’t want to kill you.” He says matter-of-factly. 

“If that’s the case, then why is it so painful for you to be around me? I mean I know I smell delectable, but if you don’t want to kill me, then why are you keeping me at a distance.” 

“Because, as I’ve said, I much prefer you alive and whole. You’ve seen how strong I am, well, not fully, but you’ve seen enough. And you’ve seen how breakable you are—one wrong move and I have to wait for you to come back. And even then you won’t fully be you, if that makes sense.” 

“You’re saying you only like this version of me?” I ask, a little sad at the prospect. 

“No, I never got to know you before, so I couldn’t say. Better the devil you know than the one you don’t, as they say.” He teases. 

“You’re calling me a devil?” I ask, sitting up in mock-indignation. He laughs and puts his hands behind his head. 

“Maybe I am,” He continues before abruptly becoming serious. “But if we’re soulmates, and I’m inclined to believe we are, then that wouldn’t matter at all. I have grown attached to you as Raquel, though.” He assures me before continuing “Truthfully, I’m surprised you trust me at all.” 

“Shouldn’t I trust you, at least a little bit?” I ask, confused. 

“I have killed you before.” He points out, a little reluctant to remind me of the fact, as though it would send me running and screaming out of his house. Again. 

“Just twice.” I amend, deciding nonchalance is the way to go. 

“Actually, it was three times.” He looks sheepish. 

“You _what_?” I ask, hopping off the bed to face him with my glorious five-foot-two stature, throwing my blackest look at him. His hand flashes out to grab my wrist gingerly, keeping me from taking off. 

“I’m kidding! I promise. I just wanted to mess with you.” He tilts his head up to look at me through his lashes, his eyes a more amber shade today. I ponder the change in his eye color and his joke, debating whether or not I should give in so easily and why his eyes may have changed, yet another question I have. 

After a minute, Emmett seems to become genuinely upset, carefully sliding his hand from my wrist to take my hand, and guide me back to sitting beside him. He interlocks our fingers after another beat, while I still evaluate his sincerity. 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t trust you.” I sigh, sitting back down on the bed with a huff, facing him with my legs crossed up on the bed. 

“Is there anything I can do to make you trust me?” He turns his eyes to me. The full power of his honey-colored eyes bore into mine, begging me not to leave and to let him make it up to me. 

I purse my lips, watching Emmett play with my fingers. “I do have a lot of questions.” 

A triumphant grin spreads across his face, emphasizing the hidden boyishness in its planes. “Ask away, babe.”


	17. Q & A

“Are you not gonna ask?” Emmett asks after I’ve been quiet for a few moments, the silence too long for him to bear. 

“I am. I’m just deciding what’s most important.” I’m sitting up, my head on my left knee, my right leg dangling off the bed. 

“Do you have fangs?” I decide to ask the most basic question first. Emmett chuckles. 

“No more than you do.” I look at him dubiously. He sighs and forces his face into a smile. I lean closer, as though the fangs are too tiny for me to see from my angle. 

“Are you trying to get bitten?” He teases. 

“Hey! I’m the one asking the questions here.” I sit back, satisfied in my investigation. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He says, his smile turning genuine. 

“If you don’t have fangs, how does someone get turned into a vampire?” 

“We may not have fangs, but our teeth are much stronger than yours. And we’re venomous, but rather than being toxic it’s what transforms someone into a vampire—the venom. It takes a lot of self-control, once we taste blood it can be hard to stop. But traditional vampire lore is correct, we can turn others with bites. Carlisle turned me.” He supplies. 

“Because of the bear?” 

“Yeah. Edward still hasn’t let me live it down.” He frowns. 

“I didn’t think you were alive at all.” I add, faking innocence. Emmett gives me a mock glare. 

“Next question.” 

“Do you still have scars from the bear?” 

“Is this your way of trying to get me to take my shirt off?” 

“No!” I immediately look away, my cheeks burning. 

“Nope. The venom fixes mortal wounds, diseases, most things mortals perceive as imperfections. You’ll notice none of us have freckles, moles, birthmarks, nothing.” There’s a twinge of sadness in his voice. 

“Did you have any?” I ask gently. 

“I had a birthmark on my wrist, it felt like a permanent severance to my human life when I realized it was gone,” He responds. “I also had a freckle on my butt that I was pretty attached to.” 

I laugh. “Sorry, the first part wasn’t funny. I’m sure you miss your family.” 

“I do, and I don’t. Human memories tend to fade, so while I have several memories that are still vivid, well, as vivid as human memories can be, I don’t remember the little things. I mostly hate that they spent so much time looking for me.” 

“Why do your eyes change color?” I change the subject abruptly. 

“Well, when we’re first turned, they’re red. Blood red, if you will. If we continue feeding on humans, they stay red, but if we switch to animal blood, they turn this gold color. And when we’re thirsty, regardless of diet, they turn black.” 

“So avoid you when they’re black. Got it.” I nod. He rolls his eyes. 

“You’d be fine, even if I was thirsty. I like you too much to let anything happen to you.” I smile and reach over to squeeze his hand. When I touch his hand, I’m reminded of another question that’s been plaguing me. 

“Why are you hard?” I blurt out. Emmett raises an eyebrow at me and smirks, and I realize what I’ve just said. “Scratch that!” 

“No, I promised to answer _all_ of your questions.” His smirk grows even more pronounced. 

“I swear to every deity on this planet, Em, if you try to give me a warped version of the sex talk I will leave this house and never come back.” I say, shoving my fingers in my ears. 

“Sex talk? Quel, you need to get your mind out of the gutter. You were just talking about the whole solid skin thing, right?” 

“You’re the one that made it weird.” I grumble. 

“Carlisle thinks it has to do with the venom. Y’know, since it “fixes” things. He thinks that it probably hardens and stops all of our organs, and the skin in an organ. Now as for other body parts—” 

“EMMETT!” I shout, but I’m laughing and covering my ears. 

“Okay, okay, I’m done teasing you. For now.” He says, pulling my hands away from my face and holding onto them. 

I quickly change the subject away from Emmett’s body. “Why do you all drink animal blood?” 

“Well, when I joined the family, I knew no other way, other than the occasional… slip-ups,” he begins. 

“Oh, yes, I remember those.” I tease. Emmett briefly grins before returning to his contemplation. 

“Edward would give you a monologue about being a monster, but truthfully, part of it is not wanting to disappoint Carlisle. The guy’s a doctor, for crying out loud. But I think none of us _want_ to kill humans. Jackson being the only possible exception, but he was not “vegetarian”—as we call it for the first hundred years or so of his existence. He really only does it for Alice, but he’ll never admit that.” 

“How old is Carlisle, anyway?” I ask. 

“Over three hundred. Closer to four hundred now, I’d say.” 

“Four hundred?” I mouth. 

“And yet, for all that time, he only figured out that there were old souls, like you, fairly recently.” 

“What can I say? I _am_ one-in-a-million.” I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder. The effect is ruined by my short hair as it _swishes_ back to the spot where it started. 

“And I hit the jackpot.” Emmett grins when I get up and glare down at him. 

“No cheesiness. We’ve been over this.” 

“You walked right into that one!” He complains. I roll my eyes and walk over to his photo wall. 

There are so many pictures, it’s hard to make out all of them. Most are of Emmett, in different places wearing different, period-appropriate clothing. One is of a woman with kind eyes and dark wild curls, not unlike Emmett’s. 

“Is this your mom?” I ask, gently tapping the photo, as though it would disintegrate due to age. 

“It is.” He says, smiling fondly at the picture. 

“What did you look like, as a human?” 

“About the same as I do now. That is, extraordinarily handsome,” I roll my eyes. “But my eyes were blue, I wasn’t quite as strong, and I did _not_ have a rippling eight-pack like I do now, only a six-pack.” 

“Shut up.” 

Emmett points to one grainy photograph of three boys, one of whom is holding a little girl on his shoulders. 

“My brothers, Alton, Kenneth, me, and my younger sister, Essie. Short for Estelle. The four McCarty kids.” The three boys look nearly identical, dark curls and matching easygoing smiles. The girl is laughing, with lighter colored hair under an old straw hat that clearly belongs to one of her brothers. 

“Your last name was McCarty?” 

“It was. It made more sense for me to change it to Cullen, you know how convoluted our backstory is already, with Jackson and Rosalie being the Hales. Can you imagine how hard it would be to explain that we’re all part of the Cullen-Hale-McCarty family. What would the humans think?” But the way he says it indicates that he didn’t want to let go of yet another piece of his human life. 

“You miss them more than you let on.” I say, looking at his face, which has a wistful appearance. 

“I do. But there’s no point in dwelling on it. There was nothing I could do.” 

“Processing and grieving isn’t dwelling on something. It’s healing.” He looks like he’s about to argue with me, so I point to another picture. “Is that me?” 

“Oh, I—uh, I didn’t know if you would mind. I know it’s an old picture from the thirties, and I know it might be kind of weird, like a serial killer keeping pictures of his victims, but I wanted you on here, too. If you want I can take it down.” He looks sheepish. 

“It’s fine, as long as you get some pictures of me-me now. Otherwise I might get jealous of myself.” 

“And we can’t have that, can we?” He asks, wrapping his giant arms around me from behind, leaning in and pressing his cool lips to the side of my neck before resting his chin on top of my head. I’m pulled out of the tenderness when I see a photo I recognize. 

“Is that _Bigfoot_?” I ask, incredulous. 

“Uh, yeah.” He says. I turn to look at him, the pieces clicking into place between the photo and his tone. 

“ _You’re_ Bigfoot?” 

“One of them. We aren’t a monolith, Quel.” He’s smirking, amused at my bewilderment. 

“But, but, but—” I struggle to form a coherent thought. 

“No buts. I heard that the only ‘but’ you’re allowed to talk about is mine.” He winks at me. 

“Jessica. Oh my God.” I crouch down, cringing, my face in my hands. 

“It started out as a joke. The myth of Bigfoot makes people happy. It’s an adventure to go looking for it.” 

“Is anyone else in your family a cryptid, or is that just you?” 

“Edward is the Moth Man.” 

“I am _not_!” I hear faintly. Emmett turns to me. 

“Have you ever seen Edward and the Moth Man in the same room?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“I can’t say I have.” I smirk. 

“Why stay in high school?” I ask, walking over to the couch and flopping on it. 

“If we can get away with pretending to be as young as possible, it maximizes how long we can stay in the area.” Emmett follows me, taking a seat a few cushions away. 

“You barely look high school aged. How young can you get away with?” 

“Sixteen if I’m lucky. We’ve made Edward and Alice go back to middle school a few times.” I laugh. 

“What did they do to deserve that?” 

“Alice is tiny, and Edward complains too much. It upsets Esme sometimes. If it upsets Esme, it upsets Carlisle. Carlisle was tired of it, and once he decided that if Edward really wanted to complain, he’d give him something to complain about.” 

“It seems boring, repeating high school over and over.” I sigh. 

“Every few years or so, we can learn a little more. And I wouldn’t have met you if we didn’t repeat high school.” He points out. 

“You don’t know that.” I sigh, laying my head back and closing my eyes. 

“Are you tired? You can take a nap.” He offers. I shake my head. 

“I’m processing. Speaking of naps, how do you always have so much energy?” 

“The blood, I guess? We don’t sleep.” I open an eye to a slit. 

“At all? No power naps for the Cullens?” 

“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p.’ 

“What do you do at night?” 

“Hunt, play games, read. Edward used to go to Bella’s house before they were dating. He claims watching her sleep was interesting.” I sit up upon hearing that, eyes narrowed. 

“He did _what_ now?” I’m already getting off the couch and thinking angry thoughts directed at the mind-reading Cullen. 

_Edward, I swear to God if you don’t get down here this instant I will destroy every book, album, and your piano. I will destroy it page-by-page, disk-by-disk, and key-by-key._ I walk out of Emmett’s room, waiting outside with my arms crossed. Edward begrudgingly makes his way down the stairs. 

“When did you start being a creep? Was it after you got a crush on Bella, or is it just an innate vampire trait?” Sarcasm drips with every word. 

“Raquel, let me explain—” 

“Explain what, exactly? The fact that you committed a felony? Or why you being creepy is okay because you love Bella?” I cross my arms. 

“I knew I liked her more than Bella.” Rosalie’s voice echoes up the stairs. 

“Start from the beginning. When did you start watching Bella sleep?” 

“Early March, after she was asked to the dance by all the boys.” I force myself to take a deep breath. 

“And how often have you done it?” 

“Every night since.” 

“You were _there_ when I was?!” My voice goes up in volume, bordering on a shriek. 

“I wasn’t watching you, if that makes it any better.” 

“It doesn’t," I snap. "How could you invade her privacy so much? And to watch her sleep? That’s just messed up. You have what, eight to ten hours every night to contribute to society, and the best you can do is waste time pulling a Hamlet and reciting overdramatic emo soliloquys in an unsuspecting teenage girl’s room at night?” 

“Your dream was accurate that night.” 

“Excuse me?” I ask, annoyed that he’s changing the subject so quickly before I can chew him out further. 

“Your dream. About your murder. You’ve wondered about that. I saw it happen in Emmett’s head. It’s accurate. A little strange seeing it from your perspective though.” Edward looks almost smug. My blood boils. 

I proceed to mentally scream, as blood-curdling, nails-on-a-chalkboard, grating, shrill sound that barely sounds human. 

“Would you mind?” Edward demands, covering his ears even though the sound is internal. He looks at Emmett over my head for help. 

“Far be it from me to stop my girlfriend from telling you off.” Emmett replies, I can feel him shrug from behind me. 

“Would you mind acting like the gentleman you claim to be?” 

“Bella wasn’t upset.” He looks befuddled. 

“Well, I’m not Bella. And Bella is blinded by her adoration of you. How dare you eavesdrop on me when I wasn’t aware of it, no less. I know you can’t control your gift, though at this point I’m more certain it’s a curse, but you should’ve known better than to do so on people when they have no way of defending themselves, when they’re most vulnerable.” Emmett puts an arm in front of, as though I’m going to charge Edward. 

“You’re right, Raquel—” 

“I know I am.” I cross my arms. Edward briefly looks heavenward before looking back at me. 

“Let me finish, please. You are right, Raquel. I shouldn’t have behaved in such a way. It won’t happen again.” 

“It better not.” And with that I turn around to go back to Emmett’s room. He wraps an arm around my waist and walks with me back into his room. 

“That was hot.” I give Emmett a glare, returning to the couch. 

“What’s the point of the bed? Since you don’t sleep?” I ask, hoping a complete subject change will help me cool down. Emmett shrugs. 

“I figured if you decided you wanted to be in a relationship with me, you might want somewhere to sleep if you were over here at night, for whatever reason.” 

“And you assumed I’d want to sleep in your room?” I raise my eyebrows. 

“Why? Did you have other plans?” His expression mimics mine. 

“Now whose mind is in the gutter?” I tease. Emmett’s laugh bursts out of him. 

“Still yours. I meant if you wanted to sleep in another room. But I am flattered you think of me naked so often. Truly, it’s an ego boost.” I groan, flushing again, and cover my face with the pillow next to me. 

“I’m not going to date you anymore if you keep embarrassing me like this.” My voice comes out muffled by the pillow. 

“Quel.” His voice is much closer than it was. I slowly lower the pillow so my eyes can be seen. 

His tawny eyes are gentle and warm, genuinely worried that he may have upset me, though he’d never admit it. 

“Hi?” I offer. Emmett tugs on the pillow, and I let him take it and throw it across the room. 

He leans in, his eyes darting from my lips to my eyes, and he cups the back of my neck, guiding my mouth to his. I melt into his touch, the scent of oranges even stronger today. I throw my arms around his neck, locking my fingers into his curls, as though that could keep him secured to me. I lay back, pulling Emmett with me. He’s careful not to crush me, holding his weight up with one arm while stroking my cheek with a finger of his other hand. When I pull away for air, Emmett buries his face in my hair and murmuring words I can’t quite make out. I pull him back down for more and he obliges, his lips soft and firm on mine. 

A sound, like that of a woodpecker, forces Emmett to pull away from me. He doesn’t take his hands off of me, though, he just adjusts himself so that I’m on his lap with his arms around me. 

“Yes?” He calls out. My brain slowly catches up, realizing the pecking was actually a delicate knock on the door. Alice pokes her head in, her inky spikes in a perfect disarray. 

“Sorry to interrupt!” She says, opening the door fully and making her way over to sit on the corner cushion of the sectional. 

“No, you’re not.” Emmett disagrees playfully. Alice sticks her tongue out at him. Her eyes flick to me, back to Emmett, and back to me once more, her eyes locking on Emmett’s arms around me like a seatbelt. She smiles, pleased at the show of affection. 

“You’re right, but you’ll want to hear this,” Her tinkling voice becomes darker, laced with an edge I can’t quite recognize. “I don’t _see_ any problems, but I figured you’d want to know.” 

“Know what, Alice? I’m not Edward, you have to spell it out.” Emmett sounds vaguely frustrated with his sister’s cryptic words. 

“The Denalis are coming for a visit. I thought you’d want to know.” 

“Which ones?” Emmett asks, his arms tightening slightly around me. 

“Tanya and Kate. Apparently, by sending Laurent up there we played matchmaker. He and Irina are together now. Maybe Tanya and Kate want to see if we can do the same for them.” Alice shrugs, the movement looking inhumanly graceful. 

“When are they coming?” 

“Kate will be here by tomorrow. Tanya got… caught up somewhere in British Columbia. Regardless, it’ll be in three days at the latest.” With her prophecy revealed, Alice disappears out the door. 

“Care to explain?” I turn to Emmett, who looks thoughtful. 

“For all intents and purposes the Denalis are our “cousins.” The only other coven of vampires that have the same diet we do. Come on, let’s go talk to Carlisle, he’s known them for hundreds of years and is better equipped to explain their story than I am.” Emmett hops up and offers me a hand. 

“Come in.” Carlisle says when Emmett knocks. 

“The Denalis are coming?” Emmett asks, closing the door behind us. 

“That’s what Alice saw, yes.” Carlisle seems unconcerned, his focus on a large textbook. 

“Can you explain their story to Raquel? I wasn’t listening the first five times you told me.” Emmett adds, pulling out a chair for me to take a seat on while he leans against the wall. 

“You never listen to me.” 

“Fair point.” 

“Okay, Raquel. Let me tell you about our extended family, the story of the Denalis.”


	18. Vampire History 101

“I wasn’t there for the beginning portion of their history,” Carlisle starts. “I’m old, but not _that_ old. So this is just what I’ve learned from Tanya—the coven’s current leader. 

“They started in the Kingdom of Hungary—now known as Slovakia. Tanya wasn’t quite sure when Sasha was made, but it had to be at least 1000 AD, as Tanya was turned in the 1010’s, with Kate and Irina not long after her. Sasha was lonely—one of the more common reasons our kind turn humans. It’s the reason I turned Edward in the first place. Sasha was a biological aunt of Tanya’s, and after Sasha turned her, Tanya saw her as a mother.” 

“What happened to Tanya’s parents? Or any of her other close family, for that matter?” 

“There were some violent conflicts over land in the 1010’s, Boleslaw the Great of Poland seized land, King Stephen took them back. Tanya’s family was killed in the crossfire. She had three younger sisters, she was wracked with grief when she came home to find them all slaughtered. She was incredibly grateful to her aunt for taking her in, though at this point Sasha knew she was going to turn Tanya, so they would always have each other. Sasha was very maternal in that way, among others.” 

“Was?” I ask, picking up on Carlisle’s consistent use of the past tense. 

“Yes, was. Sasha was killed, rather, executed by the Volturi—the vampire council, I suppose you could call them. They established and maintain law and order in our world.” Carlisle’s tone takes an interesting lilt, as though he’s trying his hardest to be diplomatic. 

“You know them?” 

“I lived with them for a few decades. They were not pleased with my way of life, nor I theirs, so eventually I left, as there was no chance in converting them over, nor was there a chance for them to sway my conviction. Over the years they’ve been becoming more corrupt, in a sense. Aro, the leader, has been slowly blinded by his greed.” 

I swallow nervously. “Greed for what?” 

“Power, blood, vampires with special abilities, take your pick. Don’t worry about them for now, they’re only a small portion of this story.” Carlisle flashes me a reassuring smile. “In the early 1000’s, there was a… shall we call it a plague? Of sorts. There are rules that we, as vampires, are supposed to follow. One of those rules, one of the strictest to be upheld is that no children may be turned. Of course, this resulted from many vampires changing human children. They were precious and beautiful, inspiring nothing but adoration from their creators. But vampiric children, just as human children are wont to do, could not be restrained or taught any sort of discipline. They could slaughter entire towns easily, the humans, entranced, would walk right into their deaths…” Carlisle trails off, thinking of the loss of human life. He shakes himself and turns his topaz eyes back to me. 

“Which of course is not good for vampires who are trying to live undetected. The Volturi made it law that no children could be made immortal, anyone found in possession of one would be killed—entire covens if necessary.” 

“What age is considered the turning point?” I ask, absorbed in the story. 

“That’s where it becomes unclear. There have been whispers that the Volturi kept the law vague in order to use the flexibility massacre covens and collect the powerful vampires within them—a practice they have maintained throughout history. Aro himself turned two twelve-or-thirteen-year-olds himself, but no one dares contest them due to their power and closeness with Aro.” 

“And because they’re creepy.” Emmett adds, throwing in a theatrical shiver for my benefit. 

“Anyhow, it was in the mid-1100s when Sasha was found to have an immortal child that she made without Tanya, Kate, and Irina’s knowledge. The Volturi, in a rare act of mercy, spared Tanya and her sisters because of their innocence. Sasha intentionally kept it from them in order to save them when she was inevitably caught. No one, not even Tanya, knows why she did it. Sasha and the child, Vasilii were killed. Ever since, the sisters have been model vampires, terrified of the Volturi.” I chuckle at the oxymoron. 

“Tanya was most deeply affected. She was closest to Sasha, both because she was biologically related to her and was her companion the longest. Her betrayal and grief knew no bounds. She lost her family, then was promised forever with Sasha, only to have Sasha herself crush that dream by creating Vasilii. Not to say that Kate and Irina weren’t close to her, but Tanya has never quite been the same. 

“Kate was a sort of lady-in-waiting to a high-ranking woman of a Slavic tribe. The tribe was on its way to Liptov, a region in modern-day Slovakia known for its caves. Kate was nomadic, and in the winters they would travel to these caves for insulation. Sasha and Tanya had not seen any humans for weeks, and both were immensely thirsty. On a split-second decision, Sasha and Tanya attacked their convoy, killing all of them but Kate. She was brave and loyal to her lady until the end. She looked so similar to Tanya, and she impressed Sasha, so Sasha changed Kate. Kate was a well-trained fighter, those skills carried over when she became a vampire and even amplified. She developed the ability to create a sort-of electric-like shock at will. It developed to protect Sasha, Tanya, and Irina, when she joined their coven.” 

“Hurts like hell, too.” Emmett adds, rubbing his knuckles, like he can still feel a phantom pain from Kate’s power. 

“Kate’s incredibly loyal and strictly disciplined. She wouldn’t abandon her sisters, but if they were to break the law…” Carlisle trails off with a shrug. 

“And Irina?” I ask, doing my best to memorize their names. 

“Irina is more private. She doesn’t speak of her human life much, all I know is that she was a peasant girl living on a village farm who looked remarkably like Tanya and Kate, so Sasha changed her as well. She was one of many children, and she stuck out because of her blonde hair, which made her a worthy addition, in Sasha’s mind. The three girls were inseparable before Sasha’s death, and even more so after the fact. 

“You’ve heard of the succubus, right?” 

“The female demon that has sex with human men?” I ask, not seeing where this conversation is going. 

“That's the one. Tanya, Kate, and Irina are the basis of the legend. After Sasha died, the ladies were lonely. The three grieved for centuries after Sasha’s death. They’ve come to terms with it now, but they’ve never quite forgiven her. To fill the void, they took male lovers, vampire and human alike, though it usually ended in tragedy for the latter. Over time, the guilt weighed on them, Tanya especially. She theorized that her difficulty keeping the human men she loved to stay alive stemmed from the fact that she was consuming human blood, making the temptation harder to refuse. She started feeding on animals, and soon convinced her sisters to do the same. Years later, Tanya and her sisters ran into Carmen and Eleazar, a pair of soulmates from Spain. 

“Eleazar was adopted by a monk in the 1700’s after he had been left on the steps of a monastery. His adoptive father was known for his study of drawings of plants native to the Americas that explorers brought back. Eleazar, ever the curious child, learned how to identify these plants, perhaps the source of his gift. During some political strife, the monastery was attacked, every monk had been killed. Soon after, vampires, lured by the smell of blood, had, for lack of a better word, a feast. One of them realized Eleazar was still alive, and, in a rare act of mercy, some would say, turned him instead of killing him. Eleazar eventually found his way to Italy, coming across the Volturi by chance. That was when our paths briefly crossed, I left the Volturi soon after to go to this so-called “New World.” It was at Volterra that Aro recruited him for his gift. 

“The Volturi is sounding more and more like a pyramid scheme.” I mumble, Emmett lets out a laugh. 

“I suppose, in a way, they are.” Carlisle lets out a chuckle despite himself. 

“You said Eleazar _was_ a member of the Volturi?” 

“Yes. His gift served the Volturi well. He can identify other vampires’ gifts. Very useful for Aro, who collects vampires based on gifts.” 

“He should settle for collecting baseball cards.” I say. 

“I’ll trade you a psychic for a mind-reader.” Emmett jokes, earning a stern glance from Carlisle. 

“It serves Aro’s purpose of gaining unopposed power. Eleazar is a gentle man; he wasn’t interested in the violence the Volturi used to control law-breaking in the vampire world. This was back when their power wasn’t as consolidated and laws weren’t quite standardized yet, there haven’t been nearly as many violent altercations in the past century or two. He finally gathered the courage to leave after his soulmate, Carmen, begged him to. She hated the senseless violence, and she sensed Aro only allowed her to live because Eleazar’s gift was so unique. Aro had never seen any gift like it. After all, finding powerful vampires is much easier when you have someone who can pinpoint what their skill is within meeting. Eleazar lived with Carmen, but continued to work for the Volturi, but the stress was weighing on him and straining his relationship with Carmen. So, he asked to leave. Aro granted Eleazar permission, positive that he could get Eleazar back should he be rendered necessary. Aro normally wouldn’t grant this freedom, but he hadn’t come across anyone with as useful of a talent, and Aro would find it a waste to just execute him on the spot.” 

“And Carmen?” I ask. 

“Carmen is interesting.” Carlisle muses, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“You’d like her.” Emmett butts in. Carlisle sends him another stern look. 

“No interrupting.” 

“Sorry, Fang Papa.” 

“We don’t even have—never mind,” Carlisle sighs and rubs his temples before turning back to me. “She was born in Spain in the 1700’s, the daughter of a former navy sailor turned pirate after the war left him without a job.” 

“Which war?” I ask, engrossed. 

“The War of Spanish Succession. Nasty fight, it ended with Spain losing most of its territory outside of modern-day Spain, including the Spanish Netherlands, parts of Italy, and Gibraltar and Menorca.” Carlisle frowns, clearly frustrated at the carnage of war and its casualties. 

“Her father was a naval Robin Hood of sorts, only stealing from the rich and smuggling the goods to the poor. Carmen followed in his footsteps, turning to piracy as well, becoming one of the first—and most notorious—female pirates to this day. She gained respect from other pirates for her tenacity and seafaring skills. One day, her ship, La Fortuna Engañosa, The Deceitful Fortune in English, was attacked by what Carmen would later learn the hard way what was a vampire pirate ship, The Damnation of the Trinity. The rest of the crew was slaughtered, and Carmen was on her deathbed when the vampires left. She doesn’t know why she was spared, or who did it. She thinks that vampirates, as they were known at the time, were wiped out by a maritime offensive conducted by Caius, another head of the Volturi. Carmen quickly docked her boat in Italy, and wandered to Volterra by accident. She was grateful to have found other vampires, even more so to meet Eleazar, who was the guard who found her outside the walls of the city. 

“Carmen and Eleazar quickly fell in love and lived separately from the Volturi. Carmen, uninterested in the senseless violence committed by the Volturi, quickly became disillusioned. This, combined with the toll she could see it taking on Eleazar, led her to want to leave. Eleazar, wanting to make her happy, left with her, heading to North America. 

“Once in the United States, or, the Colonies, at the time, Eleazar and Carmen were nomads, but this, too, was not pleasing to them, as they did not like avoiding humans—Carmen especially. She prided herself on being sympathetic, after all, she dedicated her life to carrying on her father’s legacy. Of course, that only upset her more that she would have to kill humans in order to survive herself. In Alaska, Carmen and Eleazar ran into the first vampires they had seen in years—Tanya and her sisters. 

“Tanya, ever the enthusiast of her unique lifestyle, told Eleazar and Carmen all about it. This idea made Carmen ecstatic—she could learn to be around humans again. They quickly became a family, you’d never be able to tell Carmen and Eleazar were not originally part of the coven.” 

“And how did you meet them?” I ask, entranced. Emmett’s right, based on Carlisle’s description, I already like Carmen. A female badass former vampirate? Amazing. 

“After my time with the Volturi, I came to the Colonies in the mid 1720’s, working as a doctor wherever I ended up, that included working during the Revolutionary War, as well. It was in 1917 that I found Edward and his mother, dying of the Spanish flu. On a whim, and at the behest of his mother, I took him and changed him. It was four years later I found Esme, barely alive after…” He trails off. He shakes himself and continues. 

“After Esme joined us, we were looking for more areas like the Pacific Northwest, where we could enjoy the daytime as well as the night. We made our way through Canada, eventually finding ourselves in Denali, Alaska. It was there we met Tanya and her coven. We would have stayed with her, but too many vampires in one area becomes suspicious, regardless of diet. We eventually returned after Rosalie and Emmett had joined our family, and stayed with them again.” 

“Why keep moving?” I ask, confused. If they had met others with like-minded ideals, it would make sense to live with them. 

“Carlisle can’t stay still long enough. He gets too worried about all the humans he could be saving.” Emmett chimes in. 

“That, and, as Emmett does not seem to want to tell you,” Carlisle’s eyes gleam, “Tanya took a… very strong liking to him. He did not return her feelings, but Tanya is an insistent woman. She wouldn’t leave her family to pursue him, so we left.” 

“I see.” I say, eyeing Emmett. “Apparently, he prefers girls he can kill.” 

“And that smell really good.” He adds, nonplussed. 

“You’ll be safe, Raquel. There’s no need to worry. Tanya and Kate are family. They’re probably tired of being surrounded by lovebirds.” 

“And maybe they’re flying south to find love.” I say under my breath. 

“Maybe so,” Carlisle concedes. “Regardless, they won’t try to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m more worried that a succubus is after my man.” I joke half-heartedly. 

“You don’t need to be. C’mon, let’s get you home.” Emmett says, offering me his hand. I take it and allow him to lead me down the stairs and to the front door. 

“Emmett, I wouldn’t—” Alice tries to stop him, but he doesn’t hear her in time. 

The door swings open, and a blonde drops onto the front steps from above. She’s a few inches taller than me, with champagne-colored eyes and the same chalky pallor shared by the Cullens. Her hair, platinum blonde and waist-length, has a sheen and straightness to it that would put models to shame. She grins at Emmett, pointing a finger back at him. 

“Back inside, Mr. Cullen. Unless you’d like another shock.” She wiggles her fingers at him before peering around him, as though she just noticed me. Her eyes flash down to our joined hands and back up. 

“Now I _have_ to know the story here. First Edward, and now you, Emmett? Tanya will be heartbroken, you know.” This must be Kate. Emmett gently guides me back into the house, taking a seat on the couch with me. 

“Kate. It’s lovely to see you again. To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Can’t we come see our cousins? Besides, didn’t Alice already tell you?” 

“I did!” Alice calls from another room. 

“Will there be a storm anytime soon? I really need to show your brother here who’s boss.” 

“I only see a thirty percent chance, but with Forks’ weather, you never know.” 

“Next time there’s a storm in Denali, you can call me and we’ll have a one-on-one match.” Emmett replies, ever so competitive. 

“The snow will be too thick, you know that.” 

“Excuses, excuses.” Emmett mutters, a good natured grin on his face. 

“And this is you stalling.” Kate points an accusatory finger at Emmett. 

“You caught me.” Emmett’s mouth twists up into a boyish, charming grin. 

“And who might you be?” Kate turns to me, curiosity sparking in her eyes. 

“I’m Raquel.” I say, my tone rising at the end, as though I’m unsure of my own name. 

“You know how Edward found his blood singer?” Emmett asks. 

“And fell in love with her, yes. We heard from Laurent. But you already found your blood singer, no?” 

“Kate, you’ve been around the block way more than I have. You know you can have more than one.” 

“And she’s your blood singer? Did you fall in love with her, too?” Emmett covers my ears when he replies. Kate notices the gesture and smirks. 

“…And she’s an old soul, as well. So, I guess I technically don’t have more than one blood singer—I just keep killing her.” 

“Except this time.” I amend. Emmett grins down at me and wraps an arm around me, pulling me close and kissing my temple. 

“Except this time.” He repeats. 

“An old soul, you say?” Kate asks. 

“Carlisle had only heard rumors of them before, but with Raquel, he thinks that there may be truth to it. Have you ever heard anything about them?” 

“No. Not to say there aren’t—we are pretty isolated in Alaska. Tanya would be more likely to know.” 

“Carlisle figured.” Emmett grimaces. 

“Carlisle did? Or are you asking for yourself?” Kate asks, one of her blonde brows raised. 

“Can’t it be both?” Emmett grins. Kate rolls her eyes. 

“Speaking of my sister, I’m not helping you with this… situation. You have to tell her yourself.” Kate looks amused. 

“Tell me what yourself?” The voice makes me jump; I heard no one approaching. The voice is beautiful, smooth like honey. Much like the vampire it belongs to.


	19. Tanya

“Tell me what?” The voice repeats. The vampire it’s attached to is inhumanely beautiful—even for a vampire. Her grace is unparalleled as she crosses around the front of the couch to stand beside her sister, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing with every step. Her eyes are the same golden hue as all other vegetarian vampires with an added intensity as she looks me over, her shock at the presence of a human quickly being schooled into a neutral expression. 

“That you’ve decided to give up the vegetarian diet?” She smirks. 

“Not quite,” Emmett says, looking over at me. “Though it is tempting.” 

I can feel heat coloring my cheeks. Kate’s amused expression breaks into a full-on grin. 

“You don’t mean—” Tanya’s eyes flash with anger. “Telling humans is against the _law_.” She hisses. Her expression is terrifying, as though my very presence is enough to set her, the origin of the succubus legend, a _vampire_ for goodness’ sake, on edge. 

“Tanya.” Emmett’s voice is a warning. 

“Emmett. You know this is against the law. I already lost Sasha. I’m not going to risk my family again because you decided to play house with a human.” Her voice spits out the last word. I shift uncomfortably, attempting to move away from Emmett, as though that will solve the implication of my proximity. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” I hate how my voice wavers. 

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear from you.” Her glare has me flinching away. 

“Tanya. Don’t talk to her like that.” Emmett throws an arm in front of me, like he can protect me from her word barbs. 

“Does it really matter how I speak to her? We’re going to have to kill her anyway, or the Volturi will kill us all. We were lucky to get the benefit of the doubt once, I don’t think any of them will give it to us again.” 

“Tanya, in this house we treat everyone, regardless of species, with respect. You know that.” Carlisle reproves from the top of the stairs. Tanya has the good sense to look slightly ashamed, even if it’s only on account of Carlisle. “You didn’t come here to get angry with us, Alice saw that.” 

“Plans change.” 

“So do situations,” Carlisle replies. “Although, there was something we wished to discuss with you.” 

“Lethal injection is the most humane way to kill a person.” My eyes widen to the point it must be cartoonish. Kate laughs at my expression. 

“No, not that, Tanya. We are not going to kill Raquel.” I breathe a sigh of relief, but I end up holding it again when I see the deadly intent in Tanya’s eyes. She isn’t going to let this go. 

“What do you know about old souls?” Carlisle continues, ignoring her expression. 

“I would think you would know more about that than me, Carlisle. You’ve always had your nose in a book.” 

“Please, Tanya.” 

“Well,” she sighs. “I hardly remember my human life, let alone the old beliefs of the Slavs. By the time I was born, Christianity was spreading to Eastern Europe. Christianity has no real mentions of reincarnation or old souls. You’d have better luck asking Huiya and Huojin, after all, they’re well versed in Taoist beliefs.” 

“Chinese vampires.” Emmett informs me. 

“Huiya and Huojin do have their fair share of knowledge. I’m going to assume you have no way of contacting them?” Carlisle asks. 

“No. You know how reclusive they are. They rarely seek out other company. I would assume though, if you put word out that you think you found an old soul, and they heard through the grapevine, they’d be more than happy to check it out.” Tanya eyes me again. “Though I wouldn’t trust that they’d leave her alive.” 

I shudder. 

“They’re pacifists, for the most part.” Emmett mutters to me. 

“Why do you ask? You don’t think—” Tanya’s eyes flick between me and Carlisle. 

“She has an uncanny resemblance to several others in history, and she remembers her deaths from those times. I’d heard rumors with the Volturi, but they never had anything concrete. Raquel is as close as we’ve gotten to a smoking gun.” 

“And you are smoking.” Emmett winks. I playfully punch his arm. At the mention of the Volturi, Tanya’s face becomes stone-like, immovable. 

“Carlisle, you must see what a bad idea this is. You’re endangering all of them: Alice, Jackson, Rosalie, Edward, Esme? You would risk the safety and lives of all of your family for a human? I’ve had flings, Carlisle, you know that, but I would _never_ endanger Kate, Irina, Eleazar, or Carmen like this. I didn’t think you would, either.” 

Carlisle silently makes his way to stand behind the couch. “I didn’t think you would be so quick to judge without all of the facts, Tanya.” 

“I don’t believe it.” Tanya whispers, horror on her face. 

“I really wish I could still eat popcorn right now.” Kate says to me with a conspirator’s wink. Tanya glares at her sister. 

“I always thought you were a man of the law, Carlisle.” 

“When the law is just, yes.” 

“And in what way is exposing our kind just?” 

“When it comes to soulmates. You know how we are, Tanya. You’ve seen it firsthand with Eleazar and Carmen, and now with Irina and Laurent.” 

“Soulmates?” Tanya says the word incredulously, her eyes darting between me and Emmett. 

“We’ve come to the conclusion that Raquel is both my blood singer and soulmate.” 

“You’ve found your blood singer, multiple times, Emmett. And now, decades later, you believe it’s all the same girl, and you’ve decided you’ve fallen in love with her? Why? Is this some way of playing with your food?” I flinch at the implication. Emmett squeezes my shoulder in comfort. 

“You’re right, Tanya,” I look at him in alarm, but he gives me a reassuring smile before continuing on. “I have found my blood singer. You know, as well as Carlisle does, how difficult it is to learn the self-control we need for our lifestyle. I’ve always been more… indulgent than Carlisle, Esme, or Rosalie. But now, decades later, I’ve finally built up enough strength to realize that Raquel is more than my blood singer. She keeps coming back, no matter how many times I kill her, and I see that as a sign of fate or whatever powers that be telling me that she’s special. So I’ve decided to suck it up,” he winks at me, proud of his pun. “And stick with her.” 

Tanya’s eyes slide to me, reminding me of a cheetah eyeing its prey. 

“And let me guess, you’re just so willing to believe this little fling is love? You’re what, fifteen—” 

“Seventeen.” 

“That’s not much better. You’ll get maybe twenty years with Emmett, if you’re lucky. He hasn’t told you about his past, has he? He gets bored very easily. I should know.” She smirks at the last bit. 

“Tanya, don’t.” Emmett’s voice is a monotonous warning. 

“She deserves to know.” 

“And I’d prefer she hears the truth from me, not from another vampire guided by her jealousy trying to inflict pain on her.” Tanya ignores him 

“He was a womanizer. New girl every night, new heart broken every day. When he became a vampire? It was worse at first. When we’re first turned—” 

“Tanya, that’s _enough_.” Carlisle steps in. Tanya begrudgingly stops her spiel, but changes her mind, eager to get in one last dig. 

“You aren’t the only human he’s killed, Raquel, but you’re the only one he feels remorse over.” 

“That may be so, Tanya,” I say, finding my voice. “But I think that the fact that he hasn’t killed me, or any other humans in the past however many years, shows that he’s changed. That, on top of the fact that he hasn’t killed me, when my blood is maddening to him, gives me more reason to believe it. I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to scare me off with your talk.” I get up and walk towards the door, uninterested in this conversation. 

Within an instant of me turning my back, I hear someone shout ‘ _no!_ ’. I turn to see Tanya mid-air, her lithe body about to tackle me. I brace myself for the impact of her stone-like body crashing into mine, clenching my eyes shut. 

It’s surprisingly softer than I’d expect, but she still knocks me to the ground, my breath leaving me in a sharp wheeze. She has her hand wrapped around my throat, constricting my airflow. Just as soon as my vision starts to go gray, the weight is lifted, and Tanya goes flying across the room. Before she crashes into the dining room table, she executes a flip in the air, landing in a crouch. Snarls erupt from both sides of the room. Emmett has an arm in front of me, in a crouch identical to Tanya’s. The grumble arising from his throat is animalistic, a feral snarl. Carlisle steps between his son and Tanya. 

“Tanya, that was uncalled for. Emmett, calm down. Raquel, are you all right?” He asks with efficiency. 

“I’m fine.” I say, standing up and brushing myself off. “Hardly a stab to the abdomen.” I add with a little grin. Emmett straightens up and wraps an arm around me. 

“I appreciate your attempt at trying to frighten me, Tanya, but I think it would be wise for you to remember that I’ve died before. At the hands of a vampire. And almost at the hands of a human. You can’t scare me.” My voice doesn’t shake, and I’m proud of myself for that. Tanya glares at me, still in her crouch. 

“This isn’t natural, Emmett.” She hisses. Kate moves to stand in front of her sister, ready to restrain her from attacking me again. 

“Tanya, you didn’t say a word when you found out about Edward and Bella. That leads me to believe that you’re only behaving this way because of some misguided idea that I’m in love with you. That isn’t the case. You are absolutely lovely, Tanya, you know that, but I don’t have any romantic feelings towards you. I see you as family, and I appreciate it if my family didn’t try to kill my girlfriend. I’ve already done that.” Emmett wraps an arm around me protectively, crushing me to his side. “Not to mention, she already survived a stalker in this life. I may be fighting fate here, but I’m willing to do whatever I can to keep her here. With me.” 

“A stalker?” Kate asks, curiosity piqued. 

“It started a year and a half ago, or so,” I start, giving Tanya and Kate the quick and dirty version of what happened. “And now he’s in jail, awaiting trial.” 

“And you didn’t know him, at all?” Tanya asks, now straightened out of her crouch. 

“Well, yes and no. He was dating my former best friend, but he said he only did that to get closer to me. He was also going by a different name then, which led to more confusion.” 

“Maybe you should’ve dated him. It seems you have a thing for people who want nothing more than to kill you.” Tanya adds in a snide tone. I flinch. 

“At least Emmett was straightforward about it,” I reply, composing myself. “Nathan’s goal was to create paranoia that he could then ‘save’ me from. The mental stress and fear were ten times worse than the stabbing.” 

“You’re tough.” Kate states, her eyes shining in approval. 

“Hardly.” I snort. 

“Emmett, why don’t you take Raquel home? It seems Tanya and I have a lot to discuss.” Carlisle directs, stepping in front of his massive son to shield me further. 

Emmett gently pushes me in front of him, so he can watch my back. 

"And Emmett?” Tanya calls out, feigning innocence. Emmett turns to face her with a sigh. “If you do end up changing your mind, red really is your color.” Her voice drips condescension as she sends a pointed grin my way. 

The drive back to my house is quiet, uncharacteristically so. Emmett parks in the driveway, and I unclip my seatbelt before hopping out of the Jeep. He’s already there, picking up on my melancholic mood. 

“Hey, talk to me. What has you upset?” His tawny eyes are soft. 

“Besides the obvious?” I ask with more bitterness than I intended. I’m about to storm off into my house when Emmett stops me, whirling me around so that I’m pressed up against the Jeep. 

“You don’t need to be jealous over Tanya.” 

“Jealous?” I scoff, adding an eye roll. “Hardly.” 

“Then what has you upset?” Emmett’s proximity has every nerve in my body on edge. He gently strokes my face with the back of his smooth hand, the chill contrasting with the warmth of the spring day. 

“I guess I wasn’t expecting her to have such an immediate vendetta against me. I mean, she doesn’t seem like she’s planning on stopping until I’m dead.” 

“I won’t let that happen. She’s just not used to not getting her way, but she’ll come around.” 

“How do you know that?” I ask. He leans in and lets his lips brush my right cheek. 

“Tanya is not going to sacrifice her relationship with our family. We’re the only two covens that conform to our diet, and were the Volturi to decide to step in and try to eradicate one of us for breaking the laws, the other coven could vouch for us. There’s only so much the Volturi can do without adequate proof.” 

“She can turn you in. I know that you’ve been the death of me before, but I’m not going to be the death of you.” 

“Maybe not that way.” Emmett’s lips touch my collarbone before making their way up to my lips. 

“Raquel!” My mom calls, ruining the moment. 

“Coming!” I pull away from Emmett. 

“Text me if you need me.” 

“I will.” 

✧❉✧

I’m drying my hair off in my room when I hear a _tap-tap-tap_ on my window. I cautiously approach my window, wadding my towel up into an inefficient makeshift club. I put my hands to the chilly glass, but I don’t see anything—or anyone, vampire or human. I turn away, content to believe it was nothing more than a branch when I hear it again. I turn around to face the window, but again, there’s nothing. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

“It’s fine, Raquel, you’re safe in the house.” I whisper to myself, trying to believe it. 

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

The knocking is heavier and more forceful than before, the window sill shaking with the power in the knocks. 

_Why me?_ I look heavenward and sigh, knowing in my gut that this is a bad idea. I creep back over to the window and slowly unlock it and slide it upward. I look outside of the window, now without the hindrance of a glare from the lights in my room. I still see nothing. Clenching my eyes shut and saying a silent prayer, I plant my hands on the sill and still my head out. 

I see it when I look up. My brain has no time to register or react to the image being transmitted to my mind. The window being slammed down, directly towards my neck. 

Just as quickly, I see a pale white hand shoot out and stop the window in its tracks, barely an inch above my throat. I look over from my almost-guillotine to my almost savior. 

“Edward?” I whisper, perplexed. 

“You’ve outstayed your welcome. You need to leave. Carlisle won’t be so accommodating if he finds out about this.” My eyebrows furrow at his harsh words and emotionless tone. 

“Excuse me? This is my—” I’m interrupted when I see another figure jump from its place above my head—my would-be executioner. 

As she drops to the ground I see a slight reddish hue to the figure’s hair. Tanya. She runs off, blurring as she uses her full speed. 

“Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief. 

“I heard her thoughts after you left. I would’ve told Emmett, but I have a feeling the roof would be collapsed right now if he knew. I was already on the way to Bella's, anyway.” I take a step back, allowing Edward to climb into my room and take a seat at my desk. 

“Sure, you heard that she was _planning_ to murder me, but how did you know when? You were almost too slow on the draw there.” I cross my arms. 

“I had Alice nail down the time,” Edward replies. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” 

“You think so?” I ask sarcastically. 

“I’m not used to interacting with humans on more than a surface level. Dating Bella has made me realize how out of touch I am, and your lecturing has really put that into perspective.” 

“Look, Edward, I don’t know if you think I hate you or what, but I don’t. I don’t particularly mind you, aside from the constant invasion of privacy and the way that you’ve been acting around Bella, that’s creepy. My main concern is Bella. She doesn’t deserve to get pulled along if you aren’t one hundred percent sure that you want to be with her.” 

“I can acknowledge my wrongdoings, but how is our relationship different from yours and Emmett’s?” 

“I’ve lived without Emmett before. And if I die, I come back. I will beat his ass whether it’s in this lifetime or the next. Same goes for you, too, if you hurt Bella.” 

“Duly noted. I appreciate you talking with me, Raquel. Alice didn’t see any other threats on your life tonight. I’ll leave you in peace.” Edward ducks out the window. 

“Wait!” I say, a little louder than I should. Edward sticks his head back in, looking expectant. 

“Yes?” He asks. 

“Thank you. For saving me, I mean. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did. As Esme said, you’re family now.” With a crooked smile, Edward gracefully leaps to the ground and flashes out of sight. 

I close and lock my window before climbing into bed. 

“Two murder attempts in one day, Raquel? That’s a new record.” I grumble before the exhaustion of the day drags me into a fitful, dreamless sleep.


	20. Three Little Words

“And you’re _sure_ Rosalie won’t forget to pick up Will? If she does I’ll never hear the end of it. Which means _you’ll_ never hear the end of it.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, leaning against a row of lockers. Emmett picked me up today, citing that we had plans for a date. 

“Raquel, we have photographic memories. She won’t forget,” Emmett assures me, gently tugging my arm so that he can hold onto my hand. “Besides, Rose loves him. I’m pretty sure your parents have a free babysitter whenever they want.” 

“Will has that effect on people.” I grin to myself. For such a mischievous little scoundrel, Will has an intangible charm. 

“Just like his sister.” 

“You want to babysit me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. Emmett lets out a surprised laugh. 

“No, but you do draw people to you.” 

“People are drawn to wisdom.” I shrug. 

“And who says you’re wise, huh?” Emmett ruffles my hair, sending chestnut colored waves flying around in my vision. 

“The several past lives I’ve had. Clearly.” 

“To be fair, you were killed in those.” Emmett says tentatively, as though testing whether or not he can get away with mentioning the deaths of my past selves. 

“To be fair, I was killed by a,” I lower my voice after looking around to make sure the coast is clear. “supernatural being. So that doesn’t count.” 

“You’re right. You are the queen of wisdom. Would you deign to allow me to take you on a date?” 

“I suppose. I do pride myself on charity work.” Emmett rolls his eyes theatrically. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“I don’t know, I haven’t explored much around here. Seattle? Port Angeles?” 

“No to Seattle. It’s… too far.” There’s a slight pause in Emmett’s words, like he’s monitoring what he says. 

“Then Port Angeles?” I ask, hopeful. 

“All right. You never got to go to La Bella Italia, right? Considering you needed your knight in shining armor to come save you.” He says the Italian words with a dramatic emphasis. 

“As I recall, you could barely breathe in my proximity. And I got in a few good punches. But you’re right, I didn’t get to eat there.” 

“It’s settled then.” 

✧❉✧

“I swear, Angela,” Jess sighs at lunch. “It’s going to be just the two of us all over again. Bella’s always with Edward, and Raquel’s slowly ditching us. What will we do?” 

Throwing her hand over her eyes and pretending to swoon, Jess falls onto my shoulder. I shrug her off. 

“I’m not ditching you guys. When was the last time we did anything? Port Angeles before the last dance?” 

“Then let’s do something tonight.” I cringe. 

“Emmett invited me on a date. I can cancel though.” I offer. I see Emmett’s face turn towards me sharply, and I fight the urge to laugh. 

“No, it’s fine. Angela and I will just hang out like the old maids we are.” 

“Jess, you’re younger than me.” I point out. “How about we do something sometime soon? We can hang out, have a night on the town, whatever.” 

“You still haven’t gone with us to La Push Beach!” Angela reminds me. “We should go soon. There’s a lot to do, and with the weather being warmer it won’t be as chilly.” 

“That sounds great. I’ll kidnap Bella if I have to.” I reply. 

“And we should go prom dress shopping!” Jess squeals. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m going to prom. It’s not particularly my scene.” I add, hoping Jess will drop it. No such luck. 

“Come _on_ , Raquel. Have you seen the way Emmett looks at you? There is no way, and I mean no way he’s not going to ask you. He’s probably just planning an elaborate prom-posal. You know, the Cullens are rich.” Jess adds in a whisper. 

“No! No prom-posals. I _will_ die on the spot. And I am not afraid to reject the person, whoever it may be.” I add, for Emmett’s benefit. I glance at him to see that he’s looking away from me, but he’s smirking, and I worry that I may have just given him all the more reason to do it. Alice looks tuned out, as though she’s watching some portion of the future in flux. I groan. 

“You okay?” Angela asks, concerned. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, cramps.” I lie. Jess and Angela nod sympathetically. 

“At least we’re doing ping pong today in gym!” Jessica tries to cheer me up. 

“I wish it were beer pong.” I grumble. 

“How was gym? Consume any alcoholic beverages?” Emmett asks when I get to Spanish class. 

“No, I’m unfortunately as sober as can be.” I reply, taking my seat in front of him. He chucks my ponytail. 

“Yes?” I ask, turning to face him. 

“Any clue how to ask a girl to prom?” There’s a mirth in his eyes. 

“I recommend being direct and keeping it as simple as possible. No fanfare, no parades, no big scenes, nothing.” 

“So the mariachi band is out.” Emmett muses. 

“At this point I’m not even interested in prom. Big crowds? Not my thing.” I prop my head on my hand. 

“But, babe, you’ll be with me. Everyone’ll give you a wide berth.” Emmett looks pleased with himself. 

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off as Mrs. Goff starts the lecture. 

✧❉✧

“I can’t believe we’re _still_ talking about the past tense in Spanish. It’s been months now!” I complain to Emmett as we walk down the beach after dinner. Emmett’s holding onto my right hand, so I can’t gesture as widely as I normally do. 

“High school students. They never learn anything.” He sighs, shaking his head in a Carlisle-esque manner. 

“How do you repeat it over and over? I’d go insane.” 

“You’ve seen what it does to Edward. It’s like he’s constantly bombarded with teenage angst on top of his perpetual state of self-loathing and self-doubt.” Emmett rolls his eyes. 

“Once will be enough for me, thank you very much.” Emmett drops my hand, walks a bit ahead of me, and sets his jacket on the ground, a makeshift picnic blanket. He gestures to the jacket for me to sit on it. 

“That reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“Oh, no. I swear to God, Emmett, if you break up with me now so that I have the 'high school experience of heartbreak'—” 

“What? No. I’m not going to leave you, Quel. I think you’re stuck with me.” Emmett’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he processes my words. 

“Good.” 

“Since you’re stuck with me, and you seem content with that,” He begins. “I did want to ask your opinion on becoming a vampire.” 

“In general? Or me, specifically?” I’m stalling, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Both.” He shrugs, “I’m more interested in your answer to the latter, I’ll be honest.” 

“I—I guess I haven’t really thought about it, Em.” I say, playing with my fingers, locking and unlocking my hands together. 

“That’s the thing, I have spent a lot of time thinking about it. And I don’t want to pressure you one way or another, but I love you, Raquel, and I don’t think that I can be without you anymore.” 

“You’re doing this wrong.” I state matter-of-factly, standing up and crossing my arms as I look down at Emmett. 

“Huh?” 

“You aren’t supposed to say “I love you” for the first time while asking someone to change a vital aspect of who they are, Emmett. If you love me, you love me the way I am, regardless of what _I_ choose. That's the key operative here: me. Bottom line, this is my decision to make” 

After a beat, Emmett responds. “You’re right. I’m jumping the gun here, aren’t I? I guess I’m just a bit anxious.” 

“You? The Emmett Cullen? Anxious?” I slowly sit back down. 

“What can I say? You have that effect on me.” 

“First I charm you to death and then I give you a panic-induced heart attack. I can’t win, can I?” I ask, flopping back. 

“If I make a PowerPoint for why you should become a vampire, would you listen?” 

“Who said I’m not listening now?” 

“You did just yell at me.” 

“If you call that yelling, Em, you have a lot to learn about me.” 

“I do,” He agrees. “Which is why I’m hoping you’ll stay with me forever.” 

“You’re asking me to commit to forever before you’ve even given me a proper “I love you?” I know you haven’t been human for a while, Emmett, but come on.” 

“Hey, Raquel?” I finally turn to look at him, his face two inches from mine. 

“Hmmm?” I ask, losing my train of thought, entranced by his honey-colored eyes. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

“Do you mean it?” I ask, hating the self-doubt that creeps into my tone. 

“Of course, I do. The Cullens don’t just offer immortality to anyone, you know.” 

“I love you, too.” I confess shyly. Emmett leans in and touches his lips to mine, sealing the deal. 

“Let me think about it.” I tell Emmett. 

“What is there to think about?” I raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Besides the obvious? You’ve killed me, Emmett, and I doubt I’m the only one. I don’t want to inflict that on others. I have a family, too,” I add gently, trying to soften the blow that reminding Emmett of his long-gone family is sure to bring. 

“I’m getting ahead of myself again. I just want you to know the option is on the table. And recommended by yours truly.” 

“I know. And I will think about it, Emmett, but this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision.” I put an arm on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“You’re the opposite of Bella, you know that?” Emmett says, flopping onto his back on the sand. 

“How so? I thought we were pretty similar.” 

“She’s been begging Edward to change her. He’s too busy lamenting about our “innate inhumanness and inevitable departure into the beyond as soulless beings trapped in the constraints of unlife” to consider that Bella has a point.” 

“Does he ever give it a rest?” I grumble. 

“No. He’s been moody ever since I joined the family, and before that, too. He thinks we’re soulless and doesn’t want that to happen to Bella.” 

“Good to know you’d sacrifice my soul.” I tease. 

“You have to have a soul to sacrifice in the first place,” He responds with a grin. “Besides, that’s what Edward believes. Not me.” 

“He needs therapy.” 

“And who do we go to? Put an ad in the paper that asks for psychiatrists specializing in supernatural affairs?” Emmett rests his cheek in his hand, looking up at me. 

“Of course not. No one puts ads in the paper anymore.” Emmett rolls his eyes at me. 

“In all seriousness, though—” 

“You and seriousness? In the same sentence?” Emmett gives me a withering stare. 

“In all seriousness, though,” He repeats. “You’ll really think about it?” 

“Getting Edward therapy or my becoming a vampire?” 

“Come , Raquel. You’re making this difficult.” 

“I don’t need to think about it. Edward _really_ needs therapy,” I quickly backtrack. “I will think about it. I need time and space though.” 

“That works for me.” 

When I get home, Will is waiting for me. 

“When can I see Emmett again? I know you went on a date with him. Is he avoiding me because he knows I’m going to beat him in our arm-wrestling match? Did you tell him I’ve been working out?” He flexes, the small muscles in his arm straining to define themselves. 

“I’m not sure, Will. He’s terrified of you. He said he’d been going to the gym but is still intimidated by you. I’m sure if you made a bet, he’d be all in.” I tell him, setting my keys on the counter. 

“Winner has Raquel buy them ice cream?” 

“Why do _I_ have to pay for _your_ bet?” I ask. 

“Because you’re emotionally attached to both of us. This way I can guarantee you won’t bet against me. And you have money.” 

“Bold of you to assume I _still_ won’t bet against you.” I say, ruffling his hair. 

“Mom! Quel doesn’t support me! She loves her boyfriend—” He exaggerates the word. “More than me!” 

“Will!” I say to him. “Mom! He’s trying to make me buy him ice cream! This is extortion!” 

“Both of you, knock it off.” My dad says, his voice full of authority. He and my mom are in front of the TV, eyes glued to it, not sparing their bickering children a second glance. 

“What’s going on?” I ask, going to stand behind my mom, who’s perched on our couch as though she’s going to have to get up and bolt at the smallest sign of danger. 

“We aren’t quite sure. It’s a developing story out of Seattle.” My dad says, still not looking at me. 

The news anchor’s expression is grim, and the headline at the bottom of the screen reads that some convicts have escaped from the Seattle in a jailbreak, but that police are doing all in their power to recapture them. The reporter on the screen's face is painted with the reflection of blue and red lights as they correspond with the news anchor in the studio, her face twisted into concern as she delivers the most recent update. 

A shiver makes its way down my spine, a trickling stream of fear sinking into my bones. 

“Do they have any idea who escaped?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. 

“They haven’t released any names yet. I’m sure if we needed to be… concerned, Charlie would let us know.” My dad wraps an arm around me, squeezing me to his side and kissing the top of my head. 

“Don’t worry, Raquel,” My mother looks back at me, taking my hand. “I don’t even think he was at the Seattle prison. He may have even been sent back to Virginia.” 

“It’s fine, honey.” My dad soothes. 

“I’m sure Emmett will protect you.” My mom adds slyly. My dad’s arm tightens around me. 

“That’s what I’m worried about.” He grumbles. 

“Emmett’s a good guy, Dad.” I say with an eye roll. 

“Then why hasn’t he introduced himself?” 

“Because you’d go all Private Investigator “I know all your secrets” Lewis on him. I’d rather not have my first boyfriend be scared off by my father.” 

“I already did a background check on him.” My dad says. 

“Don’t remind me.” I groan, going upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed. 

I’m sitting on my bed, my hair still dampened from my shower pinching my lips with my fingers, debating whether or not to text Emmett. I sigh and pick up my phone, the blue screen glowing in the darkness of my room. 

_Did you know there was a prison break in Seattle?_ I text. The response is instantaneous. 

_Alice saw something possibly happening. That’s why I said no to Seattle. I didn’t want to worry you, and Alice said that the future was fluctuating. I only found out after I dropped you off._

Then, _Are you mad?_

_Worried. Did Alice see who got out?_

_No. The break wasn’t organized, and Alice wasn’t watching whoever made the decision. She only saw different possible news broadcasts._

_Please don’t worry. I will protect you._ He sends with a smiley face. 

_Like you protected yourself from that bear?_ I grin as I send the message. 

_Unfair. I’m much stronger now. No human is a match for me._ I roll my eyes. 

_Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy._

_Babe, we’ve been over this. I don’t sleep._

_No rest for the wicked, as they say._ I add wryly. 

_Don't let Edward hear you say that. Speaking of sleep, you do still need it. Go to bed._

_Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night._

_Good night. Have good dreams (preferably about me)._

_We’ll see._ I hesitate before texting, _I love you._

_I love you, too._

When I see his message, I finally feel like I can go to sleep, a knot of anxiety that I didn’t know was entangled in my belly coming loose, and when sleep drags me under, there’s a slight smile on my face.


	21. Slumber Party

That weekend, I wake up to voices in my kitchen, interspersed with my parents’ laughter. Groggily making my way down the stairs, I stumble into the room to find Rosalie in all of her supermodel-esque glory. Her legs stretched out under the table, chin resting in her hands, and a cup of coffee she’ll never drink steaming in front of her, she doesn’t fit in with the quaint atmosphere of my house. She turns to look at me, executing a hair product commercial-worthy hair flip, her golden locks shining even in the bland kitchen lights. 

“Hey, sleepyhead. Did you forget about our plans?” She asks, an uncharacteristically warm smile lighting up her features. 

“Plans?” I repeat, dumbfounded. 

“Our sleepover? You, me, Alice, Bella? The boys and my father are all going hiking, so Esme said we could make a girls’ night out of it.” I know I’d remember if we’d made plans, let alone if Rosalie was the one to seek me out about it. I get the feeling that this was spontaneous, and that I should play along for my own sake. 

“Oh, yeah, you know me. Completely out of it early in the morning. Let me get my stuff and I’ll be right down. It’s okay if I spend the night over there, right?” I ask my parents. 

“None of your brothers will be there?” My dad asks. I roll my eyes where he can’t see. 

“Nope. Please, Mr. Lewis? It would mean the world to Esme. And I’m sure Chief Swan would also be pleased to know Raquel’s there, as well.” My dad has no chance against Rosalie’s charm, supernatural or not. 

“Alright.” My dad reluctantly agrees after a moment of consideration. I quickly pack an old duffel bag with the basic necessities and meet Rosalie downstairs, followed by Will. 

“How come I can’t come hang out with you?” He whines. Rosalie bends over so they’re at eye level. 

“Do you really want to be a part of girl time?” She asks, one of her brows perfectly arched. 

“Yes.” Will replies, but there’s a hesitancy to his voice, almost like fear. 

“Really?” Rosalie asks, standing up. “You want to talk about boys, have makeovers, and paint each other’s nails?” 

“You know what? I think I’m good here. See you tomorrow or whenever, Quel.” Will sulks off to his room. Rosalie and I make our way out to her cherry red convertible with the top down. 

“So?” I prompt once I’ve clambered in and strapped my seatbelt across my lap. 

“So, what?” She asks, her overly friendly attitude dropped the second my parents can’t see us anymore. 

“I know you aren’t my biggest fan, Rosalie. I doubt this is a bonding activity.” 

“The boys really did go hiking. Hunting, actually. I’m going to tell you this because he won’t, at least, not until we have it under control. There’s something not right in Seattle.” 

“Yeah, the prison break.” I supply. 

“No. Well, yes, but beyond that. There are… certain indications that our kind have cropped up in an area—especially newborns. Over the decades we’ve learned to identify them, after all, it impacts us if suspicions of… supernatural occurrences become salient. My family isn’t exactly inconspicuous, Raquel.” 

“So, you think there’s a vampire in Seattle?” 

“It goes beyond that. Sure, there could be several in Seattle for all we know, but for the most part, we’re good at covering our tracks. We meaning all vampires, not just those that are vegetarian. The problem is there seems to be at least one vampire running loose in Seattle. Edward doesn’t want to risk Bella’s safety,” Rosalie rolls her eyes. “So, Alice’s brilliant idea was a sleepover. And I prefer your company to most other humans.” 

“I’m honored.” I add. Rosalie snorts. 

“You shouldn’t be. Just because I dislike you less than other humans doesn’t mean I like you. If I have to suffer, you do, too.” 

“If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask you to put me out of my misery.” Rosalie gives a begrudging laugh. 

I stand awkwardly in the doorway to the Cullens’ home, my pink duffel bag over my shoulder, wringing my hands. 

“Raquel, come in. This is practically your home now, too. You can set your bag down wherever you’d like.” Esme fusses, patting my hair down from where the wind tussled it on the ride over. 

I drop my bag by the door and take off my shoes. Esme pulls me over to the couch, where Bella and Alice are already seated, the former looking terrified of the tiny vampire beside her. Rosalie slunk off to the garage the second I got out of her car, claiming she had some repairs she wanted to make. 

“Hi, Raquel! I’m glad you could join us for our sleepover!” Alice smiles up at me, her pixie-like face serene. 

“Is it really a sleepover if your hosts can’t sleep?” I ask. Alice and Esme laugh. 

“Touché.” Alice shrugs. 

“How did they rope you in?” Bella asks. 

“Rosalie came and got me. I had a feeling if I didn’t agree I’d be kidnapped. And I figured you could use a human reinforcement.” I bump her shoulder with mine. 

“Shall we watch a movie?” Alice asks, picking up a remote. 

“Are you just crossing out a bucket list of human sleepovers?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“Maybe, after the movie it’s makeover time. There’s nothing you can do about it, Raquel. Emmett may have saved you once, but you’re mine now. I have ideas for you. Plus, I need your measurements for prom…” Alice trails off. 

“No! I don’t even think I’m going to prom, I’d rather not.” 

“Amen.” Bella agrees, offering me a high-five. 

“You are. You will. There’s a 98% chance you’re going. Either you cooperate, or this becomes a lot more difficult than it needs to be.” Her angelic face is serene. 

“Alice, I’d rather pick out my own dress,” I attempt to placate her, knowing full well that I will drop the idea the second I’m free. 

“Can I come with you?” There goes that plan. 

“I—” 

“Come _on_ , Raquel. Every prom queen needs an entourage!” 

“Who says I’ll be prom queen?” The thought almost sends me into a spiral of panic. Alice gets in between me and Bella and starts squeezing me to the point it’s hard to breathe. 

“Alice,” I wheeze. “I think this counts as torture.” 

“Please, please, _please_ , Raquel? You’re at least showing a little more interest than Bella. I want at least one friend that will share my passion, at least a little bit.” 

“You have Rosalie.” I object. 

“No, she doesn’t. I dress myself thank you very much.” A faint voice echoes from the garage. 

“Let me rephrase, I want at least one _human_ friend that will let me use my fashion skills and not complain.” She shoots a side-eye glance towards Bella, who looks amused at my predicament and relieved that Alice has her trendy targets set on someone else. 

“Fine. But if, and I mean _only_ if, you convince Emmett not to do a promposal. You know what, he better not even ask me. I’ll go on my own.” I argue. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Alice,” I warn. 

“You’ve seen how stubborn this family is. I’ll see what I can do, but there’s only about a 10% possibility that he’ll even consider _not_ asking you.” 

“I’ve faced worse odds.” 

After the movie, Esme flips the channel back to the news. A petite woman, clearly reading off of a teleprompter, speaks about fears of a murderer on the loose after a couple of strange deaths. I only hear a snippet before Esme quickly turns the TV off and Alice hops up, squealing “come on!” and taking my hand. 

Alice drags me off to her room, or rather, studio. The walls are a bright white, with gray ceramic tiles that reflect the numerous lights that hang from the ceiling. There’s a mock runway, complete with a raised catwalk and lights on the floor. There’s a black, modern desk with a corkboard above it, sketches and designs littering the top of the desk, rejects crumpled and thrown into a metal waste bin kept beneath the workspace. Fabrics in every color and texture and pattern hang in bolts to the right of the desk, along with a sewing machine and several pale pink dressing screens with cherry blossoms adorning them are arranged to form a makeshift changing room for Alice’s victim. Alice turns to the right and drags me through another door, this one a walk-in closet with enough clothing to stock every type of Hollywood set. There are vintage-looking pieces that I have no doubt are authentic, more modern clothing, even an array of Halloween costumes. 

“You could have your own spin off of _Say Yes to the Dress_ with all of these.” I say, gravitating towards a rack solely made up of wedding gowns in various shades of white, cream, and blush. 

“And have to listen to the client?” She shudders. 

“Please tell me you at least donate some of the clothes you don’t wear?” I ask, fingering a shawl with little blue birds patterned all over it. 

“Some, yes.” 

“Good. You’ve had how long to amass enough wealth to sustain yourselves? You should be using it for good.” I remark, moving on to what I assume are Alice originals, some still works in progress. 

“Come here, Raquel. And stand still.” Alice commands, steering me over to a small raised platform with three mirrors side-by-side. Somehow, she managed to grab a yellow tape measure that’s now draped around her neck. She begins to hold the measure up to different parts of my body, from the length of my arms, to my bust and waist size, even measuring my feet. 

“How come you aren’t doing this to Bella?” I demand. Bella is sitting on a fainting couch shoved up against a wall, her bulky cast hanging down to the floor. 

“Who says she hasn’t?” Bella responds. 

“Because you aren’t complaining much.” I retort, sticking my tongue out at her. 

“I already got her measurements. I’m sneaky that way.” Alice tells me. 

“You are making her go to prom, too, right?” I ask, quietly enough that I’m sure Bella can’t hear me. 

“Yes. Well, Edward is. I would’ve if he didn’t insist, and he knows it. The only one who doesn’t know is Bella at this point. She thinks I’ve dropped it because I’ve found another person to latch on to.” 

“Lucky me.” I tease. “If I’m getting a dress from a shop, why do you need to measure me again?” 

“You didn’t think this ended with prom dresses, did you?” Alice looks horrified, stepping away from me and making some notes in a small notebook. 

“No, but I was hopeful.” 

After deciding that she has every dimension she could possibly ever need, Alice drags Bella and me up to her bathroom, where she has an array of makeup products that would make any beauty guru or makeup artist jealous. 

“Sit. Stay.” She says before bolting out. 

“We could make a break for it.” I whisper to Bella, who laughs. 

“I heard that!” Alice yells back, returning with her hands on her hips, Rosalie in tow. 

“We’re doing makeovers.” Alice announces, flouncing over to Bella. 

“Why? You don’t need makeovers. You’re quite literally perfect.” Bella says, her eyes sliding over to Rosalie for a prolonged second before returning to Alice. 

“Because it’s fun. And a hallmark of human sleepovers.” “

Are you sure you trust her with liquid liner?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow. Bella has picked up a liner and is holding it with a death grip, all of her fingers wrapped around the pen like she’s going to jab it into someone’s, namely Alice’s, eyes. 

“Nope!” Alice replies breezily. “But you know what they say, practice makes perfect.” 

“Stay still.” Rosalie commands me, and considering she’s holding an eyelash curler with a menacing stance, I obey, allowing her to do her worst. 

“This is how we did makeup in the thirties, when I was still human,” Rosalie informs me, turning me so I can look in the mirror. I gasp. My eyes have a lilac shadow to them, my lashes are almost impossibly black and thick, and my cheekbones have been rouged to create a heart shape. My lips have been painted with a perfect red, darker on the upper, lighter on the lower, and made to look thicker than they normally are. 

“Holy cow, Rose—alie.” I add, my surprise almost making me call her how Emmett does. 

“Do you like it? I know it’s not the trend nowadays, but,” She shrugs, trailing off. If I didn't know Rosalie better, I'd think she was nervous, awaiting my approval. 

“Like it? I love it! It’s different, but I like it.” I say, turning my face this way and that. 

“It was also the trend when Emmett was human as well.” Rosalie says with a small smile. 

“Can I do your makeup? Not that you need it or anything,” I ask shyly. 

“I suppose.” Rosalie’s blasé tone doesn’t hide the shock that crosses her perfect features for a brief second before she controls them into her natural stare. She takes the seat I’ve just vacated. 

“Stay still.” I repeat the words she said to me earlier, and she complies, becoming a living statue on the stool. 

“I’m not the best with eyeliner, so forgive me if it looks horrible.” I tell her after I’ve done her base makeup and eyeshadow. 

“I’ll be able to see every flaw.” She responds bluntly, but without malice. 

“Thanks. No pressure.” I try to make my tone light. 

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that even if to you it was perfect, my vision puts yours to shame. I’d be able to find flaws even in the most perfect of makeup applications.” Rosalie’s eyes open, and I can read the sincerity in them. 

“Good to know.” I say. 

“You can look now,” I inform Rosalie after spraying her with a setting spray. 

“Wow.” Rosalie says, turning her face to see my work from different angles. 

“You did modern makeup for your time, I figured it was only fair for me to do yours in our style.” I gesture between myself and Bella. I did my best impression of glam makeup, using neutral browns and gold to bring attention to the hallmark of the Cullens’ inhumanity, the tawny irises they all share. To pair it off, I used the same red lipstick she used on me, but I used a more matte finish as opposed to the gloss she topped mine with. 

“I like it. And the eyeliner isn’t half-bad.” Rosalie smirks, but her eyes sparkle with gratitude. 

“High praise from the queen of perfection herself.” I say with a smile before turning to look at Alice, who is trying, unsuccessfully, to coach Bella through makeup application. I stifle a laugh as Bella sends me a pleading look, begging for help in the smoky mess she’s made of Alice’s eyes. The Cullens have natural bruise-like shadows under their eyes, as though they haven’t gotten any sleep for a while, though I suppose that is true, but Bella has managed to get eyeshadow all around Alice’s eyes. The phrase “raccoon eyes” has nothing on the catastrophe Bella has created. 

“I give up. Alice, you knew this was a bad idea.” 

“And yet, here I sit, willing to sacrifice so that I can see how much work I’m going to need to do until you have semi-decent makeup skills.” 

“Alice, let Bella choose not to wear makeup if she wishes.” I scold gently. 

“Thank you.” Bella says to me. I wrap an arm around her shoulders. 

“You owe me.” I tell her. 

“I know.” She sighs. 

✧❉✧

“Move.” I grumble out in my sleep, lightly pushing the boulder beside me with no success. 

“Hello to you, too.” The boulder chuckles, stroking my hair. 

“Hi. Now, move.” I say, my consciousness breaking through the foggy haze of sleep. My eyes pop open. 

“Oh!” 

“There’s my girl.” I can make out Emmett’s grin in the darkness. “I see you took me up on my offer.” I can see the movement of his hand in the dark, gesturing around his room. 

“I never said I wouldn’t.” I say, trying to casually pull the covers up over my cheeks so he can’t see the blush beginning to form. 

“Fair enough.” 

“Did you have a nice time?” I ask, stretching out my limbs. 

“I did, but we can talk about that when you’ve gotten some sleep.” 

“I missed you. A lot.” 

“I didn’t know sleepy Quel was so affectionate. I’ll need you to be tired more often. 

“I’ll show you affection,” I say, attempting to make my groggy voice alluring. 

I feel my way over to him, grabbing onto one of his massive shoulders and finding his lips in the dark. I slide my hands up over the cool planes of his chest. His lips press against mine with the barely noticeable pressure, and I try to wiggle my way closer to him. His arms come up around my waist, holding me close, but still with space in between us. I try to deepen the kiss, but he gently holds me farther out. 

“No sexy time for you until you’re immortal. And less breakable.” 

“Isn’t that part of the fun?” I ask, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. 

“You need to get more sleep. You’re delirious.” I can practically see his eyeroll. 

“And you just don’t want to admit the power I have over you. You didn’t even say you missed me.” I respond. 

“I thought it was implied. I did miss you. Although, as I recall it, I’ve never had an issue with expressing how I’ve felt about you.” 

“Ah yes, I’m delectable and seductive, how could I forget?” The banter returns, easy and entertaining as it always is. 

“I never said the second part.” I can hear the amusement in his voice. He kisses the top of my head, leaving his cheek resting on the top of my head. 

“You didn’t have to.” I tell him, snuggling back into his cool embrace. 

“Are you cold? I can go find another blanket.” Emmett offers. 

“I’m… just peachy. You know, like when you flip the pillow over to the cold side? Like that.” I mumble, falling back asleep.


	22. Broken Prom-ises

“And then Alice painted my nails.” I tell Jessica and Angela, who have me cornered by my car on Monday. Jess takes my hand, inspect the French-tips Alice delicately painted on. 

“She did this freehanded?” She asks incredulously. I take my hand back and shrug. 

“She’s very artsy.” 

“I wish I had been invited.” Angela groans. 

“Nah, I felt kinda like a third best friend wheel.” 

“How? Rosalie invited you.” 

“Rosalie only invited me because I’m dating her adoptive brother.” I tell them truthfully. 

“Speaking of, where is your boyfriend? And his family, for that matter?” Jess asks, looking around the parking lot. Both the Volvo and Jeep are surreptitiously parked in their usual spots, but none of the vampires are surrounding them. 

“I have no clue.” I say as the three of us begin to make our way to English. 

“Maybe he’s setting up his prom-posal!” Jess squeals. 

“Oh my God, that’s so cute!” Angela says, and the two of them begin lamenting how neither of their boyfriends would do such a thing. 

“I told him not to, and I have no qualms about rejecting him if he does something dramatic.” I reply as we stop outside of Angela’s and my English classroom. 

“You say that now, but it’s so romantic. Come on, Raquel, you know you’d say yes. Who doesn’t want to be swept off her feet by one of the most handsome guys in school. And those arms? You _know_ he’d just—” 

“Okay!” I interrupt, shoving Angela into the room before Jess can get even more graphic. “Bye, Jess, we’ll see you at lunch!” I wave, hastily making my way to my seat. 

“Jess again?” Bella asks, smirking, her face in a book. 

“This time it’s about how I should want to be swept off my feet in the most extravagant way possible.” I sigh. 

“And you don’t?” 

“Not publicly. It’s embarrassing. It puts way too much pressure on the person being asked.” 

“I guess I’m lucky that Edward isn’t interested in prom.” 

_Oh, how wrong you are._ I think to myself. 

“You’d tell me if you knew something I didn’t, right?” I ask Bella. 

“Of course.” She says, smiling. I nod and smile back, but she answered too fast. She either knows something, and is attempting to lie to me, or she’s really empathizing with me here. 

I catch up to Jess and Bella at lunch, but something’s off. Jess is practically vibrating with excitement, and Bella has an uncharacteristically large grin on her face. 

“What?” I ask, stopping dead in my tracks. 

“Oh, nothing.” Jess sing-songs, looping her arm in mine. 

“Mike asked Jessica to the prom.” Bella informs me. 

“That’s great, Jess! How did he do it?” 

“He just asked. I mean, would it have killed him to do a little something? Like donuts or chocolate?” 

“Well, I’m happy for you.” I tell her. The three of us make our way to the cafeteria, but there are students all gathered in a crowd outside, all clamoring for a look to whatever spectacle is within. 

“Don’t tell me there’s a food fight.” I groan. 

“Probably a prom-posal. Come on, let’s go!” Jess says animatedly, tugging me along behind her. The second we get inside, she drops my hand and steps aside. I look at her in confusion until she points in front of me. 

I take in the scene in front of me before closing my eyes and praying that this is a way-too-realistic dream. When I open my eyes, the scene stays the same. 

“That’s your cue, go!” Emmett whispers to Edward, who’s seated at a portable keyboard. He begins playing a beautiful melody, and if I wasn’t so enraged at the moment, I’d probably be incredibly moved by the musicianship. Emmett is sitting on a table, in a full tuxedo, with a pink gift-wrapped box. Jess nudges me forward, and Emmett holds out the box to me. 

“What are you doing?” I hiss. 

“Just open it.” 

I untie the black ribbon, wondering if I could use it to strangle Emmett after this. Balloons come pouring out of the box, in pastel pink, green, and blue, streamers and confetti fall from the ceiling. Emmett is grinning, his dimples deeper than I’ve ever seen them. A thick, viscous anger meanders through my veins, slowly making me become more and more enraged the more I think about it. 

Emmett pulls out a sheet cake with “Prom?” written on it in swirly pink cursive letters and hands it to me. 

“What do you say?” I look at him, genuinely shocked. 

After several beats of silence that quickly becomes increasingly uncomfortable, Emmett asks, “prom?” 

“Are you serious?” I fight to control my ire. Emmett looks around, as though I’d be talking to someone other than him. 

“Yes?” I scoff. After I specifically told him that I did not want any form of a showy prom-posal, he has the gall to not only disregard my desire, but to do it in public? Shamelessly? The anger begins to bubble up, and Edward, reading my thoughts, lets the last few notes trickle out in an almost fearful decrescendo. As much as I want to yell at him, and slam the cake in his face, I gently set the cake down on the table. _Let them eat cake._ I think to myself. 

“No.” I say aloud. 

“No, I am serious.” Emmett tells me earnestly. 

“And so am I. I will _not_ go to prom with you.” And with that, I turn and storm out of the cafeteria, leaving a chorus of shocked gasps and whispers in my wake. Behind me, I hear Edward play a three-note _dun-dun-dun._ I don’t turn around when Emmett calls my name, even though I know he’ll catch up to me easily. When he does, he grabs my wrist, and I fling his arm off of me. 

“Do you _really_ think I want to talk to you right now?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, confusion evident on his features. 

“What’s wrong?” I repeat. “What’s _wrong?_ I specifically told you that I did not want any form of a prom-posal, let alone anything public and dramatic, and over-the-top. And in front of the whole school, no less. It’s embarrassing, and it puts me in a tough spot. If I say no, I automatically look like a bitch, and if I say yes, that tells you that you can just ignore what I say and I’ll be fine with it at the end of the day. I need space, and I don’t want to see you right now.” And with that, I turn and leave him dumbfounded in the hallway. I’m sitting on a bench at the front of the school when I’m suddenly surrounded by the scent of jasmine. 

“I told him not to do it.” Rosalie says, taking a seat beside me. “I said that he should respect your wishes, and you didn’t want this, but he told me “I know her, Rose. Trust me.”” She mocks Emmett with incredible precision. 

“I’m so pissed.” 

“You should be. I would be. I am. Pissed for you, I mean.” 

“Thanks for trying to stick up for me. I warned him I would say no.” I grumble. 

“Do you think you could get out of gym?” Rosalie asks, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

“Maybe. Why?” 

“Just say your ankle is bothering you. With the change in the weather Coach Clapp will buy it. Meet me behind the office in thirty.” Rosalie instructs me as the bell rings. I make my way to gym, parroting the excuse Rosalie gave me to the coach, who waves me off and sends me to the office. On my way to the meeting spot, I run into a group of sophomore girls gossiping about the scene at lunch. 

“I can’t believe _she_ said no! To Emmett freaking Cullen, no less!” 

“She should be grateful he asked her. She’s not worth him, anyway.” 

“She’s probably just doing it for clout. She’ll go crawling back to him, begging him to take her back.” I turn my head to hide my face when they're near me and thankfully, they pass right by me without recognizing me. I duck around a corner, leaning back against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief. 

That relief, however, is short-lived when I see Angela and Jessica approaching. Cursing under my breath, I dive behind some decorative foliage and duck down so they can't see me. Granted, if they see me, I'm going to have to explain a lot more than my outburst in the cafeteria. 

“I wonder what happened. They seemed so happy together.” Jessica muses. 

“She did tell him she didn’t want any big production of it.” Angela responds, the both of them oblivious to my obvious hiding spot. After they’ve passed by, I look around for the blonde, but she’s nowhere to be found. 

“I swear, if this is _another_ ploy for another prom-posal, I’ll—” 

“What? Kill me? Better than you have tried.” Rosalie appears out of nowhere. She’s holding a grocery bag with something in it. 

“What’s that?” 

“Revenge. One of my specialties.” The smile on Rosalie’s face is anything but innocent. 

“How so?” 

“I’ll tell you about it sometime. This is _your_ revenge. Though it’s not nearly as theatrical as mine, I’ll tell you, but I had minimal time and resources for this.” She takes my elbow and begins steering me towards the parking lot. 

“If you knew about this,” I begin before stopping myself, unsure if I want the answer. 

“Yes?” Rosalie prompts. 

“Does that mean Alice knew?” 

“Yes. I told her it was a bad idea, too. But I’m not ‘romantic’ in their eyes. Romance shouldn’t make you feel burdened.” 

I digest her words. “She saw how I’d react?” 

“Yes. Emmett was confident it’d change, but Alice will use any excuse to decorate anything. Don’t let her into your room.” She adds as an aside. We’ve reached the Jeep when Rosalie stops. 

“We’re taking the Jeep for a joyride?” I ask, confused. 

“No. We’re doing a reverse prom-posal. A prom rejection.” Rosalie pulls out one of items in the bag and tosses it to me. I fumble but manage to catch it. 

“Sticky notes?” I ask. 

“Yes. But we’re going to write ‘No’ on all of them. And then we cover the Jeep.” Rosalie tears into her own packet before taking a seat on the asphalt and pulling out a couple of Sharpies. She holds one out to me, and I take it as I sit beside her. 

“You don’t have to do this.” I tell her. 

“I know. I’m on your side, for this one. Don’t get me wrong, Edward is going about this the wrong way, too, but he has the technicality that Bella never told him not to ask her or take her to prom.” 

“Are you taking anyone to prom?” I ask. Rosalie stops in her writing, turning to look at me and raise a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“I didn’t think so. Nobody here is worth you, anyway.” I tell her. Rosalie laughs. 

“I’m glad you think so.” 

“You don’t?” 

“No, I do. It’s nice to hear someone validate it though. Everyone in my family has a partner now, you know. It can be difficult sometimes. For a while it was me, Emmett, and Edward, but now it’s just me.” 

“I don’t think you should settle.” 

“Who said anything about settling?” 

"Sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know what to say. It’s not easy anyway, but I already know you don’t like me very much, so I don’t want to make it worse.” 

“You’ve grown on me. Not much, but I wouldn’t do this for Bella. Or anyone else in this school, for that matter.” She has a small smile on her face as she continues to write on the notes. 

“I don’t believe that.” I tell her. 

“Why not?” She demands. 

“You just seem like the type to stand up for other girls. It’s nice.” I shrug. 

“Let’s get to sticking.” Rosalie changes the subject, standing up and brushing off her jeans before offering me a hand. 

Thirty minutes later, the Jeep is decked out in a rainbow of sticky notes, all of them rejecting the prom-posal in just as dramatic fashion. Rosalie brushes her hands off. 

“Now, we wait.” 

“I’m supposed to go to Spanish.” I tell her after hearing the distant tolling of the bell. 

“And see him? Nah. Come on, let’s get you to the nurse’s office, I think you sprained your ankle.” Rosalie leans over, wraps my arm around her neck, and supports me on the way to the office. Ms. Cope is more than willing to let me hang out in the nurse’s office, talking about how the school would _never_ allow for a student to get injured further on school property. I nod along to her chatter, holding a makeshift icepack to my uninjured ankle. 

“Just so we’re clear, we still aren’t friends.” Rosalie tells me before heading out the door. 

“I know.” I call after her retreating back. I’m surprised when she turns to look at me, shooting me a quick smile that turns her already beautiful features into truly entrancing ones. 

From where I’m seated, I can see the students begin to pour out of their classrooms upon the bell ringing. I see Edward and Emmett, who’s frowning, on their way to the parking lot. At the edge of the lot, Emmett stops cold, staring at his car. I can only see half of his face, but the shock on there is comical. Rosalie, Alice, and Jackson approach their brothers, and Rosalie says something to Emmett with a smirk. He frowns and replies to her, and after they’ve left the lot in their separate cars, Emmett’s Jeep blowing post-it notes in the breeze, I take my leave from the office and go to pick up Will. 

“You seem mad.” Will observes as he gets in the car. 

“I am.” 

“At me?” He looks guilty. 

“No. Why? Should I be?” I force some joviality into my tone. 

“Of course not. What do you mean someone dropped your blush, shattered it, and re-pressed it so well you haven’t noticed for months?” 

“Will!” I glare at him for a moment before reaching over and mussing up his hair when we’re at a stop sign. 

“If that’s not what this is about…” Will trails off. 

“Girl stuff.” 

“About a boy? What did Emmett do?” I look over at him. 

“You’re too perceptive for your own good.” I tell him. 

“Do I need to fight him for you? I know that’s usually a big brother’s job, but I’m all you’ve got.” 

“I have a feeling that wouldn’t go very well for you. But thanks, Will.” I sigh. 

“I didn’t hear a ‘no.’” Will’s mischievous expression is matched by the way he’s tapping his fingertips together. 

“Will, do not get into a physical altercation with Emmett. It wouldn’t be fair for you.” I use my stern big sister voice. 

“Who said anything about fair? Charlie and I were designing this spaghetti catapult and—” 

“No spaghetti, fighting, or plotting pranks against Emmett. Let me handle this, okay?” 

“Fine.” Will agrees morosely. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask what happened.” 

“Does it matter? He upset my big sister. No one can upset my big sister but me.” Will adds confidently. I laugh. 

✧❉✧

“Come in!” I call in response to the timid knocking at my door. Will sticks an arm in holding a carton of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream. 

“What are you doing?” I ask him. He comes in fully then, closing the door behind him. 

“Do you want ice cream? Girls like ice cream, right?” 

“Everybody likes ice cream,” I inform him. I pat the space next to me on my bed. “Come here.” 

Will obliges, offering me a spoon. 

“Do you, uh want to talk about it?” He asks, twiddling his thumbs. 

“I told Emmett I didn’t want a giant, elaborate, public prom-posal, and he completely ignored me. It put me on the spot, and I’m incredibly annoyed at him for that and for disregarding my wishes in the first place.” 

“Oh,” Will responds. He cocks his head to the side. “What’s a prom-posal?” 

“Where you ask someone to prom. I would’ve said yes if he had just asked me, or done something small and private.” 

“You said ‘no?’” Will is shocked. 

“I did. In front of a lot of people. Guess I’m going to have to deal with the fallout, huh?” I laugh without humor. 

“How so?” 

“If I say ‘no,’” I start. 

“You did.” Will points out. I silence him with a look. 

“If I say ‘no,’” I repeat. “Then I look like the bad guy. People will say that I should’ve agreed to go with him because he put himself out there and did all that for me. What they neglect to realize is that he chose to put himself out there, knowing there was a—very good—chance that I would reject him. That’s not my fault.” 

“I think you’re right. I’d reject him, too. Or her, if a girl did that to me.” Will pats my arm. I wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him into a hug. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” 

“I _did_ drop your blush and break it.” 

“You’re ruining the moment.” 

“Sorry.” I let him go, continuing to enjoy our frozen treat. 

After a few minutes, my mom calls up the stairs. “Raquel, there’s someone here for you!” I hand the carton to Will, going down the stairs and out the front door. 

There stands Emmett, wearing a tight sweater and jeans, holding a red rose. Behind him, on the sidewalk, “Will you go to prom with me?” I spelled out with little candles. I cross my arms over my chest. 

“That’s going to be a pain to clean up.” 

“Raquel, I—” 

“Save it. I’m still mad at you.” 

“I risked death to do this for you, will you please hear me out?” He asks, his expression desperate. 

“Fine. You have one minute.” 

“I’m really, truly sorry, Raquel. I should’ve listened to you, I shouldn’t have done that huge prom-posal when it was clearly not what you wanted. I owe you so much more than an apology for embarrassing you and making you feel like I don’t care about what you want. I do. I’m not going to make excuses because there are none. I just know that I love you, and if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d really like to take you to prom.” He offers me the rose. I hesitate a moment before stepping forward and taking it from him, taking in the flower’s sweet scent before looking up at him. 

“I’m still mad at you.” 

“I know.” 

“I love you, too. Even though you’re an idiot. A lot.” Emmett laughs. 

“Can this idiot take you to prom?” 

“I guess. You better clean up well though, or this will be for nothing.” Emmett laughs again and wraps me in his arms, kissing the top of my head.


	23. Say Yes to the Prom Dress

“We’re going dress shopping after school today.” Alice announces the next day at lunch, taking a seat at our table in the cafeteria. 

“Who’s we?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. Jessica and Angela look like they’ve forgotten how to breathe. Apparently, the Cullen Effect extends to the girls as well. 

“You and me. I tried to get Rosalie, but she said no.” Alice doesn’t look surprised or bothered by her sister’s rejection. 

“Where are you going?” Jess’s voice cracks on the last word. 

“Most people get their dresses from a local shop. It’s small, but it’s guaranteed no one else will have your dress. I think they’re all booked for appointments, though.” Angela explains. 

“Oh, we weren’t going to that shop. There was one in particular in Seattle I really like, but with the crime resurgence…” Alice trails off. 

“Didn’t you hear? They think the whole prison break mess was handled.” Jess says, eager to impress our new lunchmate. 

“Really? That’s perfect then. Can we take your car, Raquel? I’ll give you directions. Granted, Glamorous isn’t too hard to find, anyway.” 

“You’re going to Glamorous?” Jess squeals. 

“That’s where I’ve gotten all of my formal dresses from.” Alice acts as though it’s no big deal, shrugging off the attention. I look between my friends with confusion. 

“Glamorous is a luxury gown store. It’s crazy expensive.” Angela informs me. 

“Then maybe I should just find something in Port Angeles.” I say, the idea of high price tags making me shudder. 

“Nope. I cleared it with your parents. It’s fine, Raquel. Really.” Alice smiles serenely. “Besides, you said you’d cooperate.” She whispers so low I can barely hear her. I sigh, giving in. 

“Do I get an actual choice in my dress or are you picking that too?” I ask, snark settling into my tone. 

“Maybe.” Alice gets a faraway look in her eyes, looking into the possibilities of the future. 

“You know I have to pick up Will, right?” I ask, thankful for my little brother, even if I am using him as a scapegoat. “And there’s no way he’ll agree to go shopping.” 

“Emmett can go get him.” 

“Emmett isn’t on the approved pick up list.” I reply, smug. 

“Rosalie was able to pick him up.” Alice grins, knowing I’m backed into a corner. 

“Ugh, fine! You win, Alice.” 

“I always do.” She winks at me. 

✧❉✧

“Out of the driver’s seat.” Alice commands, appearing next to me silently. 

“What? No! This is _my_ car.” 

“Either you get out and move, or I move you. Your choice.” Not wanting to cause a scene, I comply, grumbling as I climb out and hand Alice my keys. 

“What do you have in mind for your dress?” Alice asks, trying to keep the mood light despite the annoyance radiating off of me in waves. 

“Shouldn’t you already know?” I ask, knowing I’m acting childish but not ready to cave in just yet. 

“Don’t be grumpy. No, I don’t know what you’ll pick because I don’t know exactly what’s there. I did look online and did ask for some customs…” She trails off. “Are you _kidding_ me? I ask for _three_ dresses from that designer in particular and they only get me _one_? And it’s _that_ one? Ugh, humans sometimes!” She begins seething, speaking so fast I can't understand her rant. 

“Don’t be grumpy.” I parrot back at her. She fixes me with a glare. Despite only being 4’11, Alice can be quite intimidating. 

“You say that now, but if you can’t find _the_ dress, don’t come crying to me.” 

“I won’t. I’ll just go to the shop in town.” 

“Raquel!” Alice complains. 

“Alice, I need a bit more autonomy here.” I explain patiently. “This may be fun for you, but I feel like I’m being corralled and pushed into a corner. I’m not a doll.” 

Alice ponders that for a minute. “Hmmph.” She huffs out. 

The modern white building is chic, with floor to ceiling windows showcasing the latest in prom dress couture, and there’s even a reception area with circular couches. I’m about to take a seat when Alice grabs my elbow. 

“We won’t wait.” 

“There are people ahead of us.” I gesture to the several groups of people already taking seats in the area. 

“ _We_ have an appointment.” Before I can argue, Alice skips up to the receptionist, who is sitting at a white desk, typing away at her computer. Her brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a headset. There’s an artificial waterfall behind her, with the word ‘glamorous’ stylized in the center, different colored lights illuminating it. 

“Can I help you?” The woman asks, her hazel eyes sparkling and a wide smile on her lips. 

“Yes, we have an appointment.” 

“As you can see, Miss, we’re currently behind schedule.” The clerk gestures behind us, looking apologetic. 

“And ours is tight.” Alice says, sliding a hundred-dollar bill across the counter. The clerk eyes it before silently tucking it away. I smack Alice’s arm, but she ignores me. 

“Your name?” 

“The appointment name is under Cullen. Alice Cullen.” Alice is confident, her monetary donation working the wonders that I’m sure she saw with her power. 

“Of course, Miss Cullen. Please follow me.” And the clerk quickly leads us back to a secluded area, where she instructs us to wait for the attendant, gesturing towards some plush chairs. 

“That won’t be necessary. If you could direct me to your prom dress selection, I’m sure we can handle it.” Although, there are several I requested, all under the name Cullen.” Alice’s tone must persuade the clerk, who hesitates but ultimately points towards some racks of gowns in every shade, shape, size, and fabric. Alice rushes over and begins pulling things. The clerk returns and silently adds one dress to the dressing room. 

“You said you don’t want me treating you like a doll, but you aren’t participating.” She says without turning around. 

“We can just take ones to try on?” I ask, unsure of the proper etiquette. 

“Yup. Pull some.” She tells me, turning and taking her spoils of war back to the dressing room area. I look back at the rack and pull a few innocuous dresses. Alice takes them from my hands when I follow her back to the area. She pushes me in with the instructions to pick one to try on. I close my eyes and grab one. I slide the silky fabric over my head, adjusting the dress. The one I grabbed is a sleeveless crimson dress with a scooped neckline and a slit up my left leg interrupting the silky waves of the skirt. The bodice has pearls detailing the front of my ribcage and the space where the top meets the skirt. I turn in the three-way mirror, watching the fabric _swish_ when I turn. 

“Knock, knock!” Alice says, stepping in and closing the white wooden door behind her. 

“Can you zip me up?” I ask. Alice complies, sliding the zipper up with ease. 

“What do you think?” Alice asks, her inky head popping up over my shoulders. Before I can answer, her eyes cloud over. “Nope, this isn’t yours.” 

“You can’t ask my opinion and then decide for me.” 

“Rosalie just chose her dress. Unless you _also_ want to wear a red dress and deal with the student body comparing you two.” 

“Next dress?” I say. Alice laughs and unzips the dress. 

“Try that one.” She points in the direction of some purple fabric. I pull it off the rack and slip it on over my head. It’s lilac chiffon, with flowers crawling up the bodice before spilling into a full skirt. I manage to get the zipper up, turning and opening the door. 

“Alice, I don’t know about—Emmett?” He’s sitting beside Alice, who’s beside herself in excitement at the surprise. 

“You don’t know what about me?” Emmett asks, confused. 

“No—I just, you’re here?” I suddenly feel self-conscious. 

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No, I’m just going to have to avoid _some_ of the dresses Alice picked out.” Several of the dresses showed too much skin for a school function. 

“Don’t change on my account.” Emmett smirks. I stick my tongue out at him. 

“What do you think of this one?” 

“It’s a no from me. I don’t like the silhouette.” I tell her. I step back into the dressing room, shucking off the purple one. 

The next one is extravagant. It’s silver, sparkly, and form fitting. It’s one shouldered and covered in bling with yet another slit up to my right thigh. There’s a shimmery bow that attaches a silver overskirt made of silk to my waist. 

“Well?” Alice asks. At that moment I look down at the price tag and gasp, my heart rate speeding up. “What?” 

“Twelve hundred dollars?” I squeak, immediately trying to take the dress off—that kind of expensive should be nowhere near me. Cool hands stop me. 

“Oh no you don’t." Alice's hands trap mine frantically trying to free myself in a vice-like grip. "You know you aren’t paying for this anyway?” 

“You can’t pay for this! There is no reason to spend this much on a dress!” 

“Let me see it.” Emmett calls out. Alice steps aside. I turn and walk out, terrified I’m going to somehow rip the dress. Emmett’s eyes go wide, and he’s not-so-subtly checking me out, his eyes glued to my figure. His eyes come back up to mine, reading the distress in them. “Do you like it?” 

“I mean it’s beautiful, but I can’t in good conscience…” I trail off. Emmett nods. 

“But, Raquel!” Alice protests. I shake my head, and Emmett holds up a hand for me to let him handle his sister. 

“No, Alice. If she isn’t comfortable, you can’t force her to wear it.” Emmett says. Alice pouts and slinks back to her chair, pulling her knees up to her chest, setting her head on top and looking defeated. 

The next dress is a baby pink off-the shoulder dress with a plunging neckline with a subtle tulle skirt. This bodice, too has flowers, but they’re arranged around the bodice so it looks like the flowers fade into the skirt. I actually feel like a princess in this dress, and I fling open the doors to the changing room, excited to show it. 

“Hmmmmm.” Alice hums, appraising me with one finger tapping her chin. 

“You look beautiful.” Emmett says, grinning. 

“I like this one.” I say shyly, rubbing my hand over the tulle skirt. 

“Maybe. There are more you should try.” Alice says. I comply, changing out of the dress and placing it in a separate pile from the rejects. 

“No!” I object through the door when I see the next one. 

“What do you mean ‘no’? It will look lovely on you!” Alice replies. I grumble but put it on. The halter-style dress is simple, a satin fabric with minimal bling. In a recurring theme, there is a slit on this dress, too, with rhinestones and beading around the top of the slit. I refuse to come out. Alice comes in. 

“What is the problem?” Alice asks like she’s speaking to a child throwing a tantrum. 

“A _white_ dress, Alice? Really? This isn’t my wedding.” 

“Not yet.” Emmett’s voice calls casually, causing a blush to spring to my face. I'm so caught off-guard a strangled sound escapes my throat. 

“You stay out of this!” I shout back. 

“Fine. You don’t have to show this one to him.” 

The next dress also only has one strap made of rhinestones and other beading with a matching silver bling belt, has a black satin bodice that falls into several colors of tulle in the skirt, in an ombré fashion. Purple, pink, and orange flare like a sunset when I twirl. I step out in this one, and Alice squeals. 

“I love it! Very on trend.” 

“Maybe.” I say, retreating again, knowing there are only a few others for me to try on. 

The penultimate dress isn’t worth me going out in, the bodice is weighed down too much with the amount of beading on it on top of the fact the top is sheer, my skin showing through. 

When my eyes land on the last dress, I get a feeling in my gut. I slip it on over my head, the silken fabric cool on my skin, reminding me of the way Emmett’s lips glide over my skin. The dress has a sweetheart neckline, with off the shoulder straps that allow my hair to brush the exposed skin of my shoulder, messy from all of the changing of clothes I’ve been doing for the past hour. The top fits close to my skin, with a silver rhinestone belt cinching my waist in even more before flaring out in the skirt. The emerald green dress brings out the gray in my eyes, and I know in my bones that this is my dress. I open the door, surprised how worried I am at their responses. 

Alice is grinning and Emmett’s eyes appraise me, his dimples appearing with his large smile. 

“I—” 

“No!” Alice stops me, jumping up and covering my mouth with her hand. I raise my eyebrows at her. She just turns me to face a mirror. 

“Are you saying yes to the dress?” 

“Alice,” I groan. “That’s for wedding dresses.” 

“Well?” She asks, not taking no for an answer. 

“Yes, I’m saying yes to the dress.” I roll my eyes. Alice starts jumping up and down and clapping. 

“Wait here, I’ll go check out.” When I emerge from the dressing room in my pedestrian clothes Alice takes the green dress from me before I can change my mind, disappearing in a flurry of rustling fabric. 

“That was fun.” Emmett muses, wrapping an arm around me. I groan and rest my head on his shoulder. 

“Maybe for you. I’m exhausted.” 

“Are you glad you did it?” 

“Kind of. I do love the dress.” I sigh, closing my eyes. 

“Then it was worth it. I don’t think I told you how beautiful you looked.” 

“Save it for prom, big guy.” Emmett’s shoulders shake with his laughter, jostling my head. 

After Alice sends me home on my own without my dress, claiming she’ll keep it for “safe keeping” and eventual tailoring, I work on homework after scarfing down a quick and easy dinner of mac n’ cheese. I’m fully immersed in my paper on symbolism in _The Great Gatsby_ when I’m jolted back into the real world by a tapping on my window after my house has settled down, everyone else going to bed. 

“Again?” I groan, remembering how last time someone wanted me to open the window, they had intentions of using it as a makeshift guillotine. The tapping becomes more insistent. 

“Alright! Alright! Cut it out already.” I say. If my killer is going to be this annoying, I want them to put me out of my misery. I slide the window open to find Emmett. 

“What are you doing?” I ask him. He’s crouched on the roof beside my window. 

“I came to see you. Sleepover?” He asks, giving me his most persuasive smile. I almost lose my train of thought. 

“Y’know, normal people would text or call first.” 

“That’s not romantic.” 

“And annoying me is?” I ask, crossing my arms and leaning back against my desk. 

“I wouldn’t have had to if you had opened the window the first time.” I roll my eyes. 

“Come in before you break my roof.” Emmett climbs in, but his foot gets caught on the sill, and he falls face-first into my bedroom. He moans and rolls over so he’s looking up at me. 

“I thought you were supposed to have perfect balance.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be nicer to your boyfriend.” I close the window and lock it. “Are you trapping me in here?” 

“Maybe.” I tease, turning out the light and climbing into my bed, knowing I won’t be able to focus with Emmett distracting me. I don’t hear any rustling of the covers, but suddenly Emmett’s arms are wrapped around me and I’m cradled to his chest. The scent I can only describe as _Emmett_ surrounds me like a potent tonic, tart and citrusy. 

“You should sleep. If you don’t get enough we’ll have matching bags under our eyes.” 

“Okay.” I say, though I have no idea how to relax myself. Emmett, picking up on the unspoken tension coursing through my body, begins to rub soothing circles on my back, the chill of his fingers penetrating my pajama shirt. 

“If I were Edward, I’d offer to sing to you. But there are some things that do not change when you become a vampire.” 

“Really?” I ask, curious. 

“Really. I can barely play the triangle.” I laugh quietly. 

“I played the oboe for a bit, but I was terrible.” 

“Sometime we’ll have to put on a concert for Edward.” Emmett chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest where my cheek is laying. 

“Speaking of the future…” The bravado I feel quickly wears off and my voice wobbles and tapers off. 

“Yes?” Emmett asks gently, his hands still stroking my back. 

“Earlier today,” I hesitate. I take a breath and continue. “Earlier today, when you said “not yet” in response to my wedding, did you mean that?” 

“Did I scare you off?” Emmett jokes, but there’s an undercurrent of genuine worry. 

“Not quite. Do you really see us getting married at some point?” I cringe internally at the insecurity leeching its way into my voice. 

“Well, at some point, yes. I do. Do you not?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t tell if this is just teenage love and obsession or like Carlisle said, this is what being with a soulmate is like.” 

“Ah,” Emmett says. “I can’t tell you exactly how you feel, I guess we could ask Jackson, but he’d never let me hear the end of it, but I can tell you from my perspective, as someone who has had flings before, that I have never felt the way I feel for you. Edward, being a nosy little punk, has said our feelings for Bella and you, respectively are in the same ballpark of intensity.” He shrugs. 

“Does your marrying me hinge on me becoming a vampire?” I whisper. 

“No. I’d marry you in any form, Raquel. Every form.” 

“Good to know you’d have been a home wrecker.” I tell him. 

“Yeah, I just murdered you instead. That’s clearly much better, morally.” 

“Hey, I’m the sarcastic one in this relationship.” I say while yawning, causing the words to come out strange. 

“You’re also the human,” Emmett chuckles. “Which means you need to sleep.” 

“Sure.” I say, the beginnings of sleep beginning to cloud my mind. 

“Good night, Quel.” 

“Good night, Em. You better not be here when my parents wake up.” 

“You’re blunt when you’re sleepy. They’ll be none the wiser. Go to sleep, babe.” 

I think I say something that resembles “I love you,” but I’m too far gone for my words to register in my own head.


	24. Home Run

Sunday afternoon, my phone rings with an incoming call from Emmett. 

“Hey, babe!” He sounds excited, like a kid on Christmas. 

“Hey. What’s up?” I ask, my guard and suspicions up. 

“We’re going to play baseball tonight. You wanna come?” 

“Isn’t it supposed to storm tonight?” I ask. 

“Exactly!” 

“What do you mean ‘exactly?’ Isn’t that dangerous?” 

“Nope. I promise it’s fine. Please?” I can’t crush the hope in his voice. 

“Fine. But if you aren’t as good as Babe Ruth, I’ll be disappointed.” 

“Oh, Quel,” Emmett sighs. “I’m _much_ better.” I laugh and say goodbye, hanging up my phone. 

I grab my purple umbrella and right before I can make it outside, my parents stop me. 

“Where are you going, young lady?” My father calls out from the living room. 

I wince, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around. “Emmett invited me to his family’s baseball game.” 

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him.” My mother adds mildly. 

“And we haven’t met him.” My dad frowns. 

“Well, _you_ haven’t.” My mom corrects him. 

“ _You_ have?” 

“Several times. He’s a nice boy, Bryce.” Here they go. 

“Okay, good talk. I’ll have Emmett come over at some point. ‘Kay, love you, bye!” I hurry, shoving my feet into my shoes. 

“But—” 

“You can meet him when he comes to pick her up for prom, Bryce.” My mom attempts to soothe my father. 

“Prom?!” I slam the door behind me, getting into my car and making a smooth getaway. 

I breathe a sigh of relief before dread creeps back in. I have less than a week before prom, meaning I have less than a week before my dad grills Emmett for all he’s worth. I sigh. Hopefully, my mom can reign him in before he asks for a urine sample or any other invasive thing. 

When I park my car and begin the short ascent up the front porch steps, I hear Alice’s voice. 

“She’s going to be here in three seconds, pull it together and act natural!” I knock on the door which Esme opens too quickly, as though she knew I was there. 

“Raquel! It’s lovely to see you. Are you going to join us tonight?” I smile at her. 

“Emmett invited me. Though I’m not sure if I’ll be playing.” She steps back to allow me into the house. My eyes immediately find Emmett, standing in the kitchen with Jackson and Carlisle. Alice is nowhere to be seen. Jackson and Carlisle are sitting across from each other at their dining room table, and Emmett is leaning up against the marble counter studying a newspaper intently. His brows are furrowed, and he seems to be almost ignoring me. I walk over to him and pluck the paper from his hands and turn it right side up, dangling the now readable newspaper from the fingertips of my right hand, my left hand on my hip. 

“I believe this might be why you’re struggling.” I say, raising my eyebrows. _Act natural, my ass._

“Oh, thanks! But I was reading the answers to the riddles. What can you catch but never throw? It really had me stumped. Turns out it’s a cold! Who knew? Of course, it’s been decades since I—or any of us really, have had a cold.” 

“Really? You’ve been alive how long and you’d never heard that riddle before?” 

“Nope. They say you learn something every day.” Emmett shrugs. “And today you’re going to learn about vampire baseball!” He throws an arm around my shoulder and steers me towards the garage and his Jeep. 

“We have to take the Jeep?” I ask, dubious. 

“We don’t _have_ to, but it’ll be a little more convenient. Edward took Bella in the Jeep when she came to the Cullen baseball night.” Emmett grabs something off of a coat hanger by the door before buckling me into the off-roading harness. 

“Would you like to give me a helmet, while you’re at it?” I ask sarcastically. Emmett pats my head. 

“Don’t tempt me.” I roll my eyes. 

The drive is mostly silent, Emmett turns on the radio about halfway through, and there’s a Muse song playing when we reach the destination, an abandoned field. 

“Come on.” Emmett says, helping me out of the Jeep. He holds out a dark blue rain jacket, gesturing for me to turn around so he can help my arms into the sleeves. After shrugging the coat on and turning around, I look down at myself, drowning in the fabric before looking up at Emmett and raising an eyebrow. 

“It’d be hard to carry you while holding an umbrella.” Emmett tells me before picking me up and swinging me around so I’m on his back. 

“Edward told me to warn you that this can cause motion sickness. So, if you need to, close your eyes.” 

“Bet.” I reply. 

Emmett takes off at superhuman speed, the air whipping around my face, turning the tendrils of my hair into tiny whips that lash at my cheeks. Branches seem like they’re going to hit me, but they always pass millimeters away from my face. Everything seems to blur; the forest floor becomes a fuzzy mossy carpet interrupted by the occasional craggily rock. When Emmett stops, the sudden lack of wind makes my hair fly forward around my face before settling back into place. He continues to walk towards a field where the other Cullens and Bella are already waiting with me on his back. 

“That was fun.” I tell him, now able to hear myself over the sound of the wind whipping past me. “Y’know, Rosalie said that you’re a show-off when it comes to sports.” Emmett laughs. 

“I’ll have you know that hitting a home run won’t impress me.” 

“Noted. Guess I’ll have to do three in a row then, huh?” Emmett sets me on the ground beside Bella and Esme. 

“When did you get here?” I ask Bella. 

“Edward ran me here a few minutes ago.” The three of us watch the others decide teams. Alice picks Emmett and Carlisle, and Rosalie picks Jackson and Edward. 

“Esme prefers to play umpire. To make sure they're honest.” Bella informs me. 

“That’s true, but I’m sure Emmett will be on his best behavior because you’re here, Raquel.” 

“I’d hate to see what he’s like normally, then.” Despite being a good 250 feet away from me, Emmett turns to give me a mock glare. I grin and wiggle my fingers at him in faux innocence. Rosalie takes her position on the pitcher’s mound, gearing up to throw the first pitch to Emmett. Her arm and the ball move too fast for me to see, and Emmett swings the bat so quickly it blurs, a resounding _crack_ reverberating throughout the clearing. My jaw drops, my eyes darting around trying to find the ball to no avail. Esme and Bella chuckle at my shocked expression. 

“So _that’s_ why you have to wait to play sports.” I muse to myself. Emmett runs around all of the bases, sliding into home though it wasn’t necessary—Jackson returns with the ball one second later. Emmett comes running up to me, like an excited puppy. He picks me up and twirls me around before setting me back down. 

“Did you see, babe?” He asks, flashing me a boyish grin. 

“See what?” I ask, looking at my nails. 

“Quel!” He complains. 

“Yes, I saw,” I look up at him. “But I’m still not impressed.” 

“Just wait.” I raise my eyebrows at his retreating frame. Edward catches Alice’s ball, and with two more outs, one of which was due to Emmett goofing off, the teams switch positions. Alice gears up to pitch but stops short, arm pulled back. I can see the far away, dazed look in her eyes from my spot. 

“Is Alice okay?” I murmur to Bella. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s a vision.” She whispers back. We watch as Jackson approaches her and gently takes hold of her shoulders, saying things to her that I can’t pick up with my human hearing. 

Alice snaps back to the present, her eyes focusing with laser sharp intensity on Jackson, grasping onto his arms before frantically looking from Carlisle, to Emmett, to Bella—no, me—and back. Her lips are moving, but even if I was within earshot, I know there’d be no way I’d be able to make out what she was saying. 

“What’s going on?” I ask Esme. She stiffens slightly, making eye contact with Edward who nods at her. 

“Remember how we thought there was a nomadic vampire in town?” She asks, waiting for a response. I nod. 

“Well, Alice can see it isn’t a nomad. It _is_ , however, a newborn on a mission—something rare for them. Usually, they’re too bloodthirsty and wild to be disciplined, but the one Alice sees is after something, or someone.” Bella and I make eye contact. 

“Who could it be?” We ask at the same time. 

“Well, Alice has been keeping an eye on both of you, so it stands to reason it’s either of you. Please don’t worry, though, girls, we’ll protect you.” 

“She can’t pinpoint which one of us it is?” I ask. 

“No. It seems as though somehow there’s a hole in her vision, though why that could be she hasn’t the faintest idea.” Bella takes a step closer to me, worrying her lip. I wrap an arm around her and squeeze her in a side hug. 

The rain starts to drizzle down then, and I flip the hood of Emmett’s jacket up over my head. After the impromptu timeout, the game continues. Emmett’s body language doesn’t change, but Edward’s and Carlisle’s does. Edward keeps looking over at Bella and scanning the woods behind her, and Carlisle seems to be deep in thought when he isn’t actively participating in the game. 

Emmett keeps his promise, scoring three home runs in a row. I clap for him, and he shoots me a grin, but at the very end his eyebrows furrow in worry. Alice tags Rosalie out, the crash of the two girls colliding signaling the third out and end of the game. Bella gives me a hug before hopping onto Edward’s back, burying her face in his shoulder. Esme bids me good night, and all the other Cullens head back home. Except for Emmett. 

“How was that?” He asks. 

“Fun. I enjoyed it.” 

“So…” He trails off. 

“So…?” I repeat.” 

“How about a victory kiss?” 

“We never agreed on that!” I practically shout, flustered. 

“We never didn’t agree on it.” Emmett points out. I roll my eyes, grab onto his shoulders and while on my toes, give him a quick peck. 

“You want to go home?” 

“Not yet.” I tell him. He throws the ball he has in his hands up in the air and catches it. He backs up a bit and gently tosses the ball to me. I catch it, and throw it as hard as I can. Emmett easily intercepts it, grinning at my effort. We continue to play catch, with me throwing the ball as hard and trickily as I can, and Emmett catching it with ease every time. Soon, I’m panting with the force I’ve been using. My mind wanders, trying to figure out how there could be a vampire loose in Seattle. Why would anyone create a vampire to go after me or Bella? Why not do it themselves? It’s not as though one extra vampire would help even the odds—it would still be two versus seven. I snap back to reality when I see the ball hurtling towards me. I throw my hands up in front of my chest, managing to catch the baseball, but the power behind the throw knocks me over, and with an _oof!_ I fall down. 

“Quel? Quel! Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” Emmett speeds over to me, crouching down beside me. 

“Is that an out?” I wheeze. Emmett lets out a startled laugh. “I’m fine. Lungs are for the weak anyway.” 

“I am truly sorry, Raquel. I threw it a little too hard. I have to hold back when I’m with you.” 

“Ya think?” I ask. I take his outstretched hand and let him pull me up, wrapping me in a bear hug. 

“You’re too fragile.” He sighs, burying his face in my hair. 

“You’re too strong.” I counter. “If this was a planned attempt to convince you to turn me—” 

“No!” Emmett immediately shouts, pulling away to look me in the eyes with a shocked expression. “I’d never do that on purpose. I don’t want to hurt you. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, ever.” 

I pull him back into a hug. “I know. And I promise, I’m thinking about it. It’s a lot to give up, Em.” 

“I know. I’m trying to be patient. It’s a lot of work.” 

“ _You’re_ a lot of work.” I retort. He chuckles. 

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay? Do we need to have Carlisle check you out?” 

“I’m fine, Em, really,” I assure him. “Thanks for bringing me along.” 

“Maybe one day you can join us!” His eyes are bright, his smile infectious. He swings me up onto his back and carries me back to the Jeep. Despite the carefree attitude Emmett’s showing, Esme’s words echo in my head, and I strain my eyes looking for red eyes or mysterious figures in the dark forest around us.


	25. Prom Night

Like a scene in a completely unrealistic Disney movie, I wake up to the sound of birds chirping. I sit up, yawning, rubbing my eyes to get the crust out of them. Ready to fight the feathered fiends that woke me up, I stand up. I go to stomp over to my window when I trip over something, becoming acquainted with the cold hardwood floor. I groan and sit up, only to come face-to-face with Rosalie, who’s holding her phone in her hand—the source of the bird sounds. 

“Guess it really does work.” 

“What do you want?” I groan, about to pull myself back into bed when she snags the back of my shirt, effectively stopping me. 

“I’m rescuing you.” 

“Pretty sure this counts as torture.” 

“Either I kidnap you and get you ready for prom, or Alice does. Your choice.” Rosalie sits back, positive her ultimatum will sway me to her side. I glare at her for a beat before turning on my heel and going to get ready in the bathroom. 

Teeth brushed, hair fixed, and pedestrian clothes on, Rosalie marches me out to her convertible, telling my parents that we’ll be back “in a bit.” 

Once at her house, she sets me down in her massive bathroom, surrounded by enough beauty products to stock a Sephora. Leaning against the doorframe, Rosalie looks unsure. 

“Do you want me to do your makeup, or would you rather do it yourself?” 

“I think I got it. If I need you, I’ll call. I will probably need your help with my hair, though.” 

“You got it.” With a tentative smile, Rosalie leaves the bathroom. 

“Oh, and Rosalie?” I call out. The blonde appears immediately, her face expectant. 

“Thanks. For not letting Alice kidnap me.” 

“Sure.” With a nod, Rosalie leaves again. 

I start swatching products, trying to find the right match for my skin tone and to get a feel for the products laid out before me. I select a foundation, and after applying primer, begin to apply it, slowly building up my makeup a bit heavier than I normally would. Once my base is applied, blended, and seamless, I move on to my eyes, priming them for the eye shadow I’m about to put on. I grab a palette filled with berry tones, slowly deepening up my crease until it’s a cross between a deep plum and red. To add some sparkle, I add a silver shimmery shade to my lid, blending the edges to prevent it from looking too harsh. Saying a prayer, I grab a liquid eyeliner pen and bring it to my left eye. Whatever deity heard my prayer answered it graciously, and my eyeliner is winged and smooth without being too thick. I’m about to go in with mascara when Rosalie appears. 

“I was told to get these on you “at any cost.”” She holds out a pair of thick, full, and jet-black false lashes. 

“These are huge! I’m not trying to have my eyelids lifting weights all night.” I complain, handing the box back to Rosalie. 

“Will you compromise with a less dramatic pair?” I consider the proposal, tapping my chin with the tube of mascara in my hands. I finally nod, figuring it was probably the best deal I was going to get. Rosalie returns a second later, a smaller, thinner pair of lashes in a cartridge that she hands to me. I thank her, pulling them out and gluing them to my eyelids, sealing the false and real lashes together with the mascara. I consider the rainbow array of lipsticks in front of me, my eyes scanning the rows of pinks, reds, purples, and nudes in front of me. I pluck one from the lineup, a pink shade a few shades deeper than my natural lip color. Sliding the creamy color along the path of my lips, I watch them become more noticeable and plump. 

“Good choice. That one has good staying power.” Rosalie smirks. I choke on my own saliva, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe. “Close your eyes.” 

“I _really_ hope you’re not about to test its staying power.” I grumble. 

“Oh, please. You are _so_ not my type.” I hear the sound of a liquid sloshing around before my face is sprayed with what I think is a setting spray. When Rosalie begins to brush my hair, I open my eyes. 

“Do you have a vision?” I ask her. 

“No, that’s Alice.” She responds, focused intently on my wavy locks. 

“I meant for my hair.” 

“Oh, um, I was thinking two braids in a halo with the rest of your hair hanging down? Your hair is a bit short. If you don’t like that though, I’m sure I can wrangle it into a full updo.” 

“No, I like what you suggested. It doesn’t sound like it’ll be painful at the end of the night.” 

“We’ll see how many bobby pins I require.” We fall into silence as Rosalie sections my hair and begins braiding it. If I wasn’t watching her in the mirror, I wouldn’t have even realized she was touching my hair, her fingers are so light. Her hands blur as she uses her speed to finagle my hair into the position she wants it in. She steps back, making sure it’s even, before making eye contact with me in the mirror. 

“What do you think?” 

“I love it. Really.” And I do. The braids look like a crown around my head, the rest of my hair falling in well-defined waves to my shoulders. Rosalie helps me get into my dress, fastening the buttons that line my back. She grimaces and pulls out a shoebox with a designer label on it. 

“I can promise you I tried to get her to change her mind, but she insisted.” Pulling out a pair of strappy silver stilettos with giant bows on them, Rosalie sets them on the ground in front of me, offering an arm for me to take as I hoist myself into the death-traps. Once she’s sure I’m not going to fall and break my neck, Rosalie ducks down and fastens the little buckles on the shoes. 

“Does your bathroom _really_ have to be on the second floor?” I complain, as we enter the hallway. The twenty steps down serve as twenty opportunities for this lifetime to be cut short. 

“Come on. I won’t let you fall. Entertaining as it may be.” 

“Thanks. I feel so assured.” Sarcasm drips from every word, masking the deadly terror lurking beneath. 

True to her word, Rosalie does help me down the stairs, steadying me a couple of times when I tottered too close to the edge of one step. She drives me home, dropping me off only to return to her house to get herself ready. I comfort myself with the knowledge that Bella probably had it worse—and hated the process more than I did. 

“You look so pretty!” My mom gushes, her hands fluttering about, wanting to cup my cheeks and pat my hair, but not wanting to ruin all of the prep work it took to get to this point. 

“Just like your mother.” My dad says, pulling her away and into his side to take away the temptation of touching me. 

“I still don’t know why it’s so important.” Will insists, barely giving me the once-over, choosing instead to focus on his video game. 

“Pictures! Pictures, pictures, pictures! I need some of you before Emmett gets here.” My mom pulls out her phone, directing me to stand in front of our fireplace—the obligatory photo spot for any and all formal occasions. After making me pose in several ways—each more ridiculous than the last, she makes my dad take over so she can take some with me. She takes the phone back to take more pictures of me with my dad, and then me with Will, who grumbles about almost having beat the level he’d been stuck on for days. In my heels, Will barely comes up to my shoulder, so I start to mess with his hair, my mom getting a candid photo of us. Will is starting to wrestle me off of him and begin his counterattack when the doorbell rings. Will immediately goes back into protective little brother mode, clutching on to my arm. 

“You do realize it’s just Emmett, right?” I ask him. 

“I’ve heard… things about prom night.” He whispers back, his eyes wide in genuine fear. 

“Don’t worry about me, Will. I’ll be fine. Emmett’s a perfect gentleman.” 

“That’s what I’m worried about.” My dad says under his breath. I hear voices echo in from the front hall, my mom’s full of giddiness and Emmett’s booming laugh. When he crosses the threshold into the living room, my breath gets taken away. He’s in a classic suit, with an emerald green bow tie that matches my dress. He’s grinning, as usual, and his golden eyes are soft when he takes me in. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” I say, well, it’s more of a whisper, back. 

“Mr. Lewis, it’s nice to finally meet you. Quel talks about you often. I’m Emmett Cullen.” He holds out a hand to my dad, who takes it and shakes it, flinching at the chilly temperature of Emmett’s skin. 

“Well, Emmett, I don’t know much about you. I have a few questions I’d like to get out of the wa—” 

“Mom! Don’t you want to take pictures of us before we have to go? We wouldn’t want to be late.” 

“Of course. Emmett,” She gestures over to me. Emmett wraps an arm around me, and another round of posed pictures, this time of us as a couple, ensues. The obligatory waist-holding, looking into each other's eyes, the putting on of the corsage, and finally, after finally pinning it on, Emmett dips me, a small shriek escaping my lips while he just grins. 

I manage to dodge my dad’s attempts at interrogation, escaping the house. 

“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t get a horse drawn carriage. Or at least a limo.” I say. He’s driving yet another car, a sleek black one that looks expensive. 

“Horses aren’t the biggest fans of us. And Carlisle said no limos after the prom incident of ’85.” 

“Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not. It’s more fun to leave to the imagination.” Emmett holds my hand as he drives, rubbing his thumb along the back. 

Emmett helps me out of the car once we’ve reached the school, leading me into the decently decorated gym. The music is loud, overpowering, and only two couples are on the dance floor—Alice and Jackson, and Bella and Edward. Bella looks less than thrilled, though she smiles when she catches a glimpse of me over Edward’s shoulder. I wave with my free hand, then gesture to her appearance and shoot her a thumbs up. She’s in a blue prom dress with lacy, flowery sleeves, a slit up the leg, and she, too, is wearing a death trap high heel on her unbooted foot. Alice comes bounding over to me in a skintight black dress with geometric patterns cut into it, her pearlescent skin shining through. 

“Oh, Raquel, you look so pretty!” She shouts into my ear, wrapping her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug. I pat her back and make eye contact with Rosalie, who, true to Alice’s word, is wearing a daring red dress with a deep v-cut that goes into her back and a train. She raises her glass of punch, though I know she’s not actually drinking it. Unless she spiked it. With blood. 

Gently tugging me away from the ever-insistent Alice, Emmett whirls me onto the dance floor, twirling us gracefully. 

“Not gonna pull out any moves from the 30’s?” I tease, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not yet, babe. If they bust out Moonlight Serenade, then it’s all over.” He grins down at me, holding onto my waist. 

While the song continues, I look around the room, smiling at my classmates. Mike and Jessica seem to be almost in a spat, avoiding looking at each other. He makes eye contact with me and shrugs. I mouth “ask her to dance” at him, and he nods, repeating my words to his date. She rolls her eyes, but takes his offered hand, and they, too join the fold. They end up right next to Ben Cheney and Angela, who look blissfully content, holding each other and swaying to the beat. 

After a few dances, the lights, sounds, smells, and colors are beginning to overwhelm me. 

“Wanna take a break?” Emmett leans close to me and asks. I nod, letting him lead me off the dance floor and out to a sitting area outside the cafeteria. 

“This is where I strong-armed you into telling me you were a vampire.” I smile fondly at the memory, running my fingers over the cool green metal of the arm of the bench. 

“I remember it as the first time you called me sexy.” 

“I never said that.” I reply indignantly, my cheeks heating up. 

“I don’t want to push you, but have you thought about it?” 

“About what?” I play dumb, though I know where the conversation is going to turn. 

“About me—or Carlisle turning you,” He stumbles over his words, as though _that_ was the reason I didn’t want to be turned. 

“I have. I’m still on the fence, Emmett. What guarantee do I have that you aren’t going to change your mind on me? How can I just leave my family? Will? Everyone? I need to figure everything out first.” 

“I understand,” There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “Bella thought Edward was going to turn her tonight. She was majorly disappointed. I’m expecting Edward to fall into a month-long depression about how the human he loves wants to be turned into a monster. His words—not mine.” 

“You’re really selling the dream here, huh?” I laugh. “Who do you think will win in their stalemate?” 

“From my experience,” Emmett gestures between the two of us. “Bella. One hundred percent. Edward has no chance. He’s prolonging the inevitable.” 

“I see.” We lapse into a comfortable silence, enjoying the peace and quiet of the night, the sounds of crickets acting as background music. 

“I don’t think I mentioned how breathtaking you look.” Emmett says after a few minutes. 

“Thank you. You, on the other hand…” I shrug, teasing him. 

“Take that back.” He demands, looking stunned. 

“Hmmmm. Nope.” He’s on the other side of the bench, looking like he’s ready to pounce. I have no warning, suddenly I’m airborne, trapped in Emmett’s strong embrace, my feet off the ground. 

“Please?” His words contrast with his actions. 

“You, Emmett Cullen, are the most handsome being—human or non-human, that I have ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. Better?” I punctuate my sentiment with a show of true love, an eye roll. 

“Much.” He breathes out, his scent stunning me. He presses his lips softly to mine, gently setting me so my feet are back on the ground, though that doesn’t really help, since my legs feel like jelly thanks to his kiss. 

When he pulls away, I’m gasping for air, intoxicating myself even further. 

“Do you want some punch?” 

“Sure. Preferably not what Rosalie has.” Emmett throws his head back and laughs. 

“One non-bloody, non-alcoholic Bloody Mary coming up.” 

“It better not be an actual Bloody Mary.” I grumble. 

“You really think Forks High School would splurge on tomato juice for its students? You’re lucky they even used real fruit juice. I’ll be right back.” With one last kiss, Emmett turns back to the gym. 

The cold air begins to seep deep into my bones, chilling me to the core. Without Emmett, I feel exposed and wish I had insisted on a cute cover-up. As it is, I rub my arms, hoping the friction will get the goosebumps that have risen on my flesh to dissipate. I turn around, looking out towards the woods that surround the school. My imagination must be running wild, seeing shapes moving in the forest, ready to snatch me. I shake myself, choosing to look at the stars overhead instead of focusing on the seemingly ever-present anxiety that’s made itself at home in a pit in my stomach. I’m trying to figure out where the Little Dipper is when a pair of arms wraps around me. 

“Hi.” I say, settling my head back into Emmett’s shoulder. The sounds of nature suddenly stop, an eerie silence falling over us. 

It all happens so fast, my brain struggling to catch up, processing the red flag of Emmett not speaking to me when I’ve only ever known him to be quiet once in all of our time together. 

“Did you forget the punch—whoa!” I’m picked up bridal style, my head falling back. From my upside-down stance, I see Emmett holding two cups of punch, his eyes wide and mouth slack with shock. He drops the cups, spilling the red liquid everywhere. I’m suddenly flying—no, whoever has me is running, inhumanely fast. I struggle to get free, knowing it’s futile, especially in the stupid heels Alice got me. I kick and thrash, and punch, but nothing works. I finally manage to wrangle myself into a position where I can see my captor, and my breath leaves my body in a _whoosh_. 

“No.” I whisper, the chill I felt before amplifying into a complete and total freeze of fear.


	26. Kidnapping, But Make it Supernatural

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, violence, y'know, the usual when you've been kidnapped by a vampire

The chill of the vampire’s skin that’s whisking me away seeps so deeply into my bones I feel as though I’ll never be fully warm again. I’ve grown accustomed to the chill of the Cullens’ skin, especially Emmett’s, and I find that chill comforting, like a breeze on a summer day. 

Vampirism doesn’t suit him. The soulless pale, pale blue eyes he once had are replaced with soulless, vibrant red ones. If I had any freedom of movement, I’d shiver at what the color of his irises mean. The venom’s transformative powers are evident in other realms, the planes of his face are sharper, more angled, and of course, there’s the little difference of supernatural strength and speed. 

_Think, Raquel. You gotta get away before he gets you to his final destination._ I twist around, trying to find something, anything to help me. I manage to wiggle a hand free, and stretch towards a branch, grabbing hold of a small, flimsy one. It bends and snaps, breaking into an oversized splinter. It cuts into my hand, and I hiss. Nathan’s eyes dart to the warm, red liquid, desire reflecting his matching irises. I shake out my hand, praying that vampire senses are as strong as I hope they are. I keep reaching out, grabbing fistfuls of leaves and brush, but nothing strong enough to give me any sort of leverage to kick at Nathan, but enough to smear my blood on the foliage. I hear a loud crash a distance away in the underbrush, and my heart soars for a moment before Nathan lets out a guttural sound, deep in his throat and speeds up. Everything blurs even more than when Emmett ran with me. My head, which has been upside down this entire time, begins to feel hot. I can feel the blood rushing to it, when I breathe it burns, like I’m drowning. I make a few more attempts at freedom before my hand falls limp, and my world dims before getting extinguished. 

_Damn, my head hurts._ The same thought ricochets around my brain unwarranted. My hands are tied behind my back, and I’m in a wooden chair with no armrests. I try to take stock of my injuries, but I can’t seem to feel any damage. I snap my head up, pulling on the restraints. Cold manacles wrap around my hand, and I freeze in response. Nathan chuckles and pulls up a chair to sit across from me. 

In the darkness, I can’t make out much, but with the little sliver of moonlight, I can tell we’re in an old, abandoned cabin with minimal furniture, all wooden. I'm in the center of the room, and I can see some wooden countertops under the window letting in the light of the moon. 

“Y’know, if you’re going to kill me, could you at _least_ do it somewhere with a three-star rating at the minimum?” I start out, the gears in my mind turning while I stall. “First it’s a dinky motel room, and now this? Come _on_ , Nathan, where’s the pizzazz? The flair for the dramatic?” 

Nathan doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, a calculating expression on his inhumanely perfect face. Realizing I should be surprised that he’s a vampire, I quickly shift gears into playing dumb. 

“What’s up with your eyes? Did you get contacts? Not your style, pal, I don’t know who told you otherwise, the Hot Topic employees are not paid enough to actually give you good advice, you know.” The extreme danger of the situation makes me reckless with my words. “And that speed? Anabolic steroids much? And most importantly, _shouldn’t you be in jail_? For, you know, trying to _murder_ me? And stalking me? I’m still not over that, by the way. No moonlight escapade is going to fix that situation at all. And while we’re at it—” 

“Oh my God, would you shut the _fuck_ up? You’re insufferable!” His voice is still reedy, but now it has a melody to it that would be pretty if it wasn’t coming from a disgusting human—er, vampire. 

“No. I told you before, and I’ll tell you again, I don’t care _what_ you do to me. I won’t ever like you. You're _really_ vying for the number one spot on my shit list, aren’t you?” 

“Quit the bullshit, Quel.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“What?” He feigns innocence. “That’s your name, isn’t it?” He shifts gears. “I mean the acting bit. I know you know about vampires—it explains why you like that little vampire boyfriend of yours.” 

“What? Emmett isn’t a—” 

“I know you know, Raquel! Knock it the fuck off!” My mind is turning over this information, so I stop talking, hoping he’ll fill in the silence. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. I know everything—vampires, shapeshifters, werewolves, you.” 

“Me?” I ask. 

“You’re ancient. You like, have some regeneration powers.” 

“That’s not--I. You mean reincarnation?” I sigh. Vampirism did not give Nathan any brain cells. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” He grits his teeth in frustration. 

“You didn’t ask one.” 

“Are you denying any of it?” I shake my head, defeated. 

“This means I can turn your little coven bodyguards into the Volturi, you know that?” He smirks. 

“You do realize they’d take you, too? You weren’t inconspicuous in Seattle for one thing, and you just broke the cardinal rule of not telling humans yourself. I have a feeling the Volturi would be more likely to listen to Carlisle than some punk from Washington.” 

He mulls this over. “That is a problem. But for our purposes, it’ll be irrelevant.” 

“Let me go, Nathan.” I try to sound intimidating, but if I was weak before in comparison to him, I’m pathetic now. “You know this won’t end well.” 

“Your little boyfriend?” He sneers, not even winded by his actions. “He won’t find you, and even if he did, I’m strong enough to take him on.” 

“You really think so?” I laugh. “Emmett is much stronger than he looks. And you’ve made him angry. You really think he’s going to stop now? Even if you kill me, he will _never_ stop looking for you. And when, not if, when, he finds you, let’s just say I hope I’m around to watch him tear you apart.” 

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name.” 

“Let me guess. Now’s when I get to listen to your evil monologue including your tragic backstory and a couple of musical numbers thrown in for good measure?” I roll my eyes. 

“No. You see, when I was turned—” 

“Who did that, by the way? Someone in the prison?” I fish for information. If his eyes weren’t already, I’d say they turned red with anger. His lips press into a thin line, and he gets out of his chair, stomps over to me and smacks me across the face. The icy chill mixed with the sheer force of the hit knocks the wind out of me, and I look down at the ground, willing the tears to go back into my eyes. 

“Don’t fucking interrupt me.” He stalks back to his seat. “When I was turned, I was told by the vampire that turning another person creates an unbreakable bond. It’s like an attachment sort of thing. The person that turns you knows more and is in more than one way your creator. If I turn you, you’ll be in love with me. I gave you an opportunity and made your life better. You’d never die, Raquel. No more trauma.” 

“No more trauma? Dude, I’m going to need so much therapy after this. Being turned into a vampire by the person who made my life a hell for over two years now is trauma-inducing. I’m not going to fall in love with you, Nathan, you turning me just puts me on an even playing field with you,” I feel like I’m grasping at straws, there’s a determined set to Nathan’s chin. “Think for a minute. Wouldn’t _you_ have that same bond with the person who turned you? They’re manipulating you.” 

“No, no. They said they already had their partner, so I wouldn’t be affected.” 

“And I have mine, Nathan. Emmett.” 

“Don’t fucking say his name!” He shouts, slamming a fist through the table beside him, sending splinters of wood everywhere. 

“Come now, Nathan. We practiced control.” The voice comes from the darkest shadows in the corner of the room. The silky, seductive, musicality fills the space, making the chills in my body wrack up into full-blown shivers. 

“Tanya?” I whisper, my voice barely audible. 

“Took you long enough to figure it out. Humans are so stupid.” 

“Some vampires are, too.” I nod towards Nathan. He growls at me. Knowing I have no chance at all here against two vampires, my tongue gets the better of me. 

“Well, Nathan has one thing right. You _are_ going to be turned into a vampire tonight. Or, well, three days, to be precise.” She amends. 

“Why? Doesn’t that help the Cullens? If I’m a vampire, it doesn’t matter that they told me when I was human.” 

“Well, I have a theory, Raquel." She delicately hops onto a wooden counter, crossing her legs. Her strawberry blonde curls look platinum in the moonlight, a pink hue still evident in them. “If you were a vampire, and say, there was an accident where you died, you wouldn’t come back. Vampires and humans are two different species, you know. We can’t be born; therefore, once you’re a vampire, that’s _it_. The end. Fin. Your time on this planet in any form is over.” 

“You think Emmett will love you after this?” 

“Not right away, no. But someone has to help him grieve.” She shrugs, nonplussed. 

“He’ll never forgive you. He’ll _never_ want you, Tanya. I may not be as powerful, wild, attractive, or seductive as you, but I _do_ have Emmett’s love. Regardless of if I’m a human, vampire, dead, or reincarnated, I will always have that.” A sense of truth thrums in my chest, and I let the comfort of my own words sink in. Tanya becomes furious, her face twisting into an oddly beautiful, yet terrifying scowl, and she lets out a hiss. Hopping off of the counter with a delicate leap, she marches towards me, bloodlust and pure anger in her eyes. 

“Tanya, be sure to leave her alive. I do need to be able to turn her.” Nathan says nonchalantly. 

“Of course, love.” She placates him with a serene smile. “But you might want to step outside until it’s time for the change to take place.” She turns to me. “Newborns, you know.” 

Nathan leaves the room, going to wait outside or by a door. 

“Emmett will kill you when he finds out you’re behind this.” I state calmly. 

“Not if he never finds out. Especially when I bring him the head of the pathetic boy who turned and killed his precious little human pet.” She’s standing right in front of me now, and I can’t help but gulp, embarrassingly loud. 

One thing you don't seem to understand, Raquel, is that I _always_ get what I want." 

"Except for Sasha. The Volturi killed her because of her guilt." I can tell my words hurt her. She rocks back on her heels before schooling her expression back and recomposing herself. 

She smiles, a cruel, ingenuine one before pulling her right fist back and slamming it directly into my face, knocking my head back and making me dizzy. She grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. My left eye is already swelling, I can tell, I can barely see out of it already. She smirks, turning my face this way and that, sliding her hand to my hair and wrenching my body so hard the entire chair hits the ground, my shoulder making a popping noise and instantly, pain shoots up my arm. I groan. I feel blood beginning to seep into my mouth from biting my tongue, and when Tanya grabs me by the shoulders, I shriek, the pain amplified. She forces me upright, and I look up into her face, beautiful yet marred by the hatred in her eyes. I spit the blood directly onto her face, giving it everything I have. She’s taken aback, her mouth in a perfect ‘o’ shape, but she regains her wits quickly. She forces me out of the chair and shoves me into the wall, my arms screaming in protest, still trapped behind my back. 

“You little bitch.” Her voice is quiet, deadly. She unties my hands, but she pulls on the right one. I thought it was dislocated before, but when she yanks on it as hard as she can, I writhe in agony and let out a sob. The pain is all-consuming, I can’t think of anything except the way Tanya is grabbing my arm and bending it at an unnatural angle, a _snap_ reverberating throughout the room. My knees buckle, my arm still in Tanya’s grasp. She throws the arm back to me, and I curl up into the fetal position. She grabs me by the delicate updo that Rosalie did for me earlier that day, though it feels like so long since that time when my biggest problem was walking in heels. She pulls me across the room, flinging my body like a frisbee, sending me sailing directly into one of the legs of the table, the wind being knocked out of me again. Tanya grabs my shoulders, eliciting a sharp gasp. She straddles me and begins whaling on me, smacking and punching and slapping my face and chest. I don’t even bother trying to defend myself, and eventually I feel myself dissociating from my body—I barely feel the pain. She stands up and begins kicking me, and I feel the _crack_ of individual ribs being crushed under the force of her combat boots. I moan in pain, every square inch of my body aching, sore, or bleeding. 

She gets back down onto my level, her lips freezing my ear. 

“Now, who’s ready to become a vampire?”


	27. Knight in Shining Tux

My body, limp and beaten, has no chance at fighting Tanya. I try to resign myself to the knowledge that this is the end, even though my mind is screaming at me to fight back until my very last breath. I try to shove her off of me, but the attempt is pitiful at best. Tanya throws her head back and laughs. 

“That’s really cute, Raquel. I’ll make sure to tell Emmett you fought so valiantly.” Her voice is sarcastic. She bends down again, and I can feel her cool breath on my neck. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the pain. Right when her teeth graze the skin of my throat, there’s a keening screech coming from the front room. Both Tanya’s and my eyes shoot up, and Tanya turns into a defensive crouch, her lips curled back, baring her teeth. 

“Nathan?” She calls out, not righting herself from her stance. 

A rustling in the forest outside the cabin captures the vampire’s attention. She becomes completely still, like a statue, her stance reminds me of a leopard, poised and ready to strike, taking in all of the sensory information she can. 

Nathan bursts into the room, fury on his pale visage. 

“You said _I_ was gonna turn her!” His voice is low and deadly. 

“About that, Nathan. We’ve seen how your self-control is, to put it lightly, lacking. You saw what happened in Seattle.” 

“We had a deal, Tanya.” The look on Nathan’s face is terrifying. His eyebrows furrowed, his lip curled up in a sneer. 

“And I’m breaking it. The point of this whole excursion was for me to get rid of Raquel. Permanently. You were only a means to an end.” Tanya’s voice is laced with venom. Nathan stumbles back a step, as though he’d been punched. 

“You-you what?” 

“She lied to you, Nathan. I told you that.” I croak out. Tanya lands a backhanded slap across my cheeks without turning to look at me. I gasp, the movement jostling my ribs. 

“Renegotiation. I turn her, you get to live.” Nathan glares down at Tanya. 

“Or what? You’ll kill me? You may have newborn strength, but you are still a child. I have been alive for centuries, you really think that you have a fighting chance?” 

At that moment, there’s a huge crash from the front room. Nathan whirls around partway, not willing to turn his back on his partner-turned-enemy. 

“Go out there and check what it is. We’ll renegotiate fully, but right now, we need to work together.” Tanya orders. Nathan, looking torn, sways back and forth, weighing his options before turning on his heel to investigate the source of the sound. 

“You didn’t strike me as a compassionate businesswoman, Tanya.” I inform her. 

“I’m not.” Her eyes turn flat, dead. She grabs me, tilting my head back and coming in for the kill—well, the transformation into a vampire, I guess. A long-forgotten instinct from the primitive human days awakens, screaming at me to fight back or run away. Too bad those ancestors knew nothing about vampires, or they’d realize how hopeless the situation is. 

Tanya freezes an inch from my throat. A second later, my human ears pick up on the keeling sound, a scream of agony. 

“Where is she?” The voice is angry, angrier than I’ve ever heard before in my life. I’d think my brain was playing tricks on me, except for Tanya’s reaction. I’ve never felt so much relief in my life, my body releasing the tension that’s been coiled within it. 

“Don’t you dare say a word. Don’t even think.” I barely hear her. She scoops me up, none too gently. She rushes into the front room where I find Nathan being pinned down by Jackson and Edward, with Emmett in front of him holding a long, white object. It takes me a moment to connect the dots—rather the disconnected one. Emmett is waving one of Nathan’s detached arms in front of him. Edward’s face is grim, holding onto the left shoulder that the arm used to belong to. 

As tempting as it is to expose Tanya, I know I can’t with both her and Nathan still in play. 

“Oh, Emmett! Thank God you’re here! I heard some commotion in the woods not long ago and came to check it out. Lo and behold, I found this newborn torturing Raquel in the other room. Poor thing was barely conscious. 

_Yeah, no shit, evil succubus bitch._ Edward glances at me, a confused look on his face quickly returned to neutral. 

“You’ve been terrorizing Seattle? And my girlfriend, again?” Emmett seems to have controlled his temper, but I have a feeling that with Nathan’s answer, that’s going to fly out of the window again. 

“She’s not your girlfriend, pal. I’m going to turn her, and then she’ll be mine.” 

_God, he’s a terrible villain. Probably not the best idea to be goading the strongest vampire you know of._ Emmett lets out a roar and grabs onto Nathan’s other arm, ripping it off, a sound like a rockslide reverberating through the room. 

“Tanya, could you take Raquel back into the other room, please? She doesn’t need to see this.” Emmett steps between me and Nathan, obscuring my viewpoint. 

“Tanya? Tanya! You have to help me! We had a deal!” 

Emmett looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “A deal?” 

“She turned me so I could turn Raquel.” 

“That’s ridiculous. A dying vampire will say anything to save his skin, Emmett, you know that. Jackson does as well, probably better than you.” 

“It’s the truth, I swear it. Please don’t kill me!” Nathan begs. Tanya turns on her heel and begins to carry me back into the other room, where she’ll undoubtedly continue her plan, Nathan serving as a distraction yet again. I try to catch Edward’s eye, but he’s focused on his brother and restraining the writhing newborn beneath him. 

Tanya sets me back on the chair before grabbing the other wooden one and dragging it over to me. 

“Well, isn’t this convenient?” She asks quietly unaffected by the obvious violence occurring in our vicinity. 

There are screams and wails coming from the front room, along with the sound of metal being scraped and pulled apart. Tanya has her hands steepled, studying me, . 

“I really don’t see what he sees in you.” She says, making small talk as though a murder isn’t going on in the other room. A justified murder, to be fair, but a murder nonetheless. 

“I’d say me too, but I like to think it’s a combination of my charming personality and quick wit.” 

“I meant physically.” 

“Yeah, you have me beat there. Any vampire does,” I add, shrugging my good shoulder. “I guess the phrase “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” comes from.” 

“Even as a vampire, I’d be prettier than you. We’ll have a chance to see that—right before you die. Permanently, of course.” 

“Of course.” I add, forcing joviality into my tone to cover the fear seeping up into my throat like bile. “Guess your plan is toast.” I say, slightly louder. 

“Hardly. Readjustments can always be made.” 

“They’re gonna know though, that you did this.” 

“Unless they think Nathan managed to bite you before he died.” 

“I’ve heard it’s painful. I’m not in pain.” 

“Not yet.” A sickly sweet scent mixed with smoke wafts into the room, filling my lungs and making me cough, the action jarring my shoulder and making my ribs scream in protest. 

“Well, that’s our cue to leave.” Tanya says, scooping me up and making her way over to the window. She climbs up over the sill, grabbing onto me like a rag doll, exacerbating my injuries and pain. She covers my mouth to prevent me from screaming, and she’s jimmied the window open and about to drop me outside. 

“What the hell?” Emmett asks, his eyes darting from me to Tanya and back. A second later, Edward joins him, giving me a curious look. 

_She did it. Her plan was to turn me and kill me so I can’t come back._ I think at Edward. His eyebrows raise for a fraction of a second, so quickly I’m not even sure I saw it right. 

“I was just making sure she was safe. With newborns, you know how strong they are. The last thing we’d want is for the human to get hurt.” 

“Why the change in heart, Tanya?” Emmett asks, his guard up. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall. 

“As touching as this conversation is, I’m being dangled out of a window with a dislocated shoulder.” Tanya looks at me like I’m a pesky fly before flinging me carelessly back into the room, sending me skidding across the floor. 

“I’d say thank you but I think I have internal bleeding now, which doesn’t make my situation any better.” I groan. Emmett rushes over to me, cradling my face in his giant hands. 

“Raquel, are you okay? Wait, scratch that--of course you aren’t. We need to get you to a hospital.” 

“No! No hospitals. Just shove my shoulder back in and we can have Carlisle check me out—” 

“That’s my job.” I groan, facepalming. 

“Sorry, reflex response.” He says sheepishly. 

“First things first, can someone shove my shoulder back into socket?” 

“Edward? You have medical degrees. Might as well put them to use.” 

“For once.” I add under my breath, prompting a glare from Edward and a stifled laugh from Emmett. 

“You probably shouldn’t taunt the person who’s about to cause you a world of pain.” 

“Look, I’ve died before. You can quit it with the big bad vampire routine. Besides, you aren’t the worst one in the room.” Edward leans beside me and gently takes a hold of my shoulder. 

“On three. One…Two…” He shoves my shoulder back in, a wave of pain sweeping through my arm. 

“What happened to three?” I demand. 

“I needed your shoulder relaxed. You’d have tensed.” 

_If there weren’t more important things going on right now, I’d start screaming at you in my head._

“I know.” He smirks at me. Emmett looks from his brother to me, making a sound of exasperation. 

“Come _on!_ Not you, too! Man, living with a mind reader really blows.” 

“You can always come to Denali.” Tanya says coyly, twirling her hair around her finger. 

Emmett looks up at her, startled, forgetting she was even there in the first place. 

“I’m sure he wants to go on a vacay to see the vampire who tried to kill me three times.” I reply. Tanya gives me a frosty look, fury burning beneath her cold exterior. 

“Three times?” Emmett asks. 

“Twice when we first met, and considering she was planning on turning me and then killing me in order to disrupt and destroy the old soul within me and remove me from the picture permanently, I’d count that as another one. Wouldn’t you?” I direct my question at Edward. He nods. 

“She turned Nathan to kidnap Raquel. Using his newborn strength allowed her to have her hands clean and explains the holes of Alice’s vision.” Emmett, who had been processing the information, rocking back on his heels, suddenly snaps his head up. 

“I’m going to kill you.” There’s no real malice in his voice, only grim determination. 

“Carlisle will never allow it.” Tanya swallows, edging towards the door, towards escape. 

“I’m more of a beg forgiveness kind of guy.” 

“Edward.” Tanya warns, looking between the two vampires. 

“I’m not inclined to stop him, Tanya. We told you to leave town, I even kept your second attempt on Raquel’s life to myself. But no more.” 

“Wait, wait, wait. Second attempt? When was that? What happened?” Emmett throws his hands out, looking at his brother and me. 

“That same night. She tried to make my window a makeshift guillotine. Too bad for her, I’m no Marie Antoinette.” 

“Nice reference. Carlisle would be proud.” Edward whispers to me. 

“Where’s Nathan?” Tanya tries to change the subject. 

“Nothing but ash now.” Jackson says from the corner. I jump, I hadn’t seen him come in. I groan at the pain in my ribs. Emmett begins to crouch down to check on me, but I wave him off. 

“Well, your little girlfriend is quite the storyteller, Emmett. Too bad she’s lying. She’s clearly jealous of me and the affection I have for you. Would I really betray one of my closest and oldest friends in Carlisle over a human? We’re some of the only other vegetarians you know. We value humans. Kate, Irina, and I have all been at this longer than you’ve ever been alive, Emmett, and your track record isn’t nearly as clean.” 

“Edward?” Emmett looks at his brother, who’s studying Tanya. 

“Raquel did mentally call her an evil succubus bitch in her mind earlier, and based on the images that Raquel is thinking of, along with “how dare you not believe me you idiot” I’m inclined to believe her.” I smirk, satisfied my plan worked. 

Tanya, who had been creeping closer and closer to the other room, and her clearest path to freedom, turns and takes off, running to the front door. I hear the door splinter off of its hinges as she tears it off, Edward taking off after her. 

Gently helping me up, Emmett cradles me in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. Did my blood help you find me?” He lets out a surprised chuckle. 

“It did. I love you.” 

“I know.” I respond. 

“Not fair, you’re supposed to say ‘I love you, too, you hot, sexy vampire hunk.’” 

“When have I _ever_ said that?” 

“I like to think you say it in your mind every day.” 

“As cute as you two are, I think we have bigger problems than you two declaring your love for each other. Y’know, considering the person who just tried to murder you ran out the front door.” Jackson adds with a shrug. 

“Correction. She _tried_ to run out the front door.” A soprano voice sings out. Alice appears, dragging Tanya by one arm, Rosalie holding onto her other arm. 

“Alice,” Jackson breathes out, scanning her over from the top of her inky head down to her feet, still in stilettos so sharp they should be considered a weapon. 

“They say prom night is supposed to be unforgettable. I don’t think this is what they meant.” Rosalie informs me. 

“I’ll try to keep that in mind for next time.” 

The two girls force Tanya into the same chair she used on me as her victim, and Emmett kisses my forehead before placing me back down on my feet. I lean against the wall for support. 

“I’m going to need a good reason not to kill you.” 

“Jackson, grab him!” Edward flies into the room, right as Emmett tries to leap at Tanya, snarling. His brothers straining to hold him back. 

“Emmett, enough. _Enough!_ Who wants to tell me what’s going on here? I got a frantic call from Bella saying ‘they took Raquel.’ And then I hear one of my sons plotting a murder?” Carlisle and Esme ask from the doorway. 

“Hey, Vampadre! Have a seat. We were just talking about you.” Carlisle hesitates before striding in, taking a seat in the other chair, Esme hovering behind him. 

“Now, start from the beginning.” The Cullen children all look at each other before all of them start speaking over each other at once. Carlisle waves his arms like a conductor until they stop. 

“Quiet, all of you! One at a time. Emmett? Start from the very beginning.” Emmett rubs his hands together and takes a deep breath, preparing to share his side of the story.


	28. Vampire Showdown

“Well, I’m not too sure of the details as I wasn’t there at the time, but it was a spring day. You see, my ma and my pa loved each other very much, and it was on one of _those_ warm, humid days that really—” 

“Emmett, no!” Carlisle frantically tries to stop his son from giving him the gory details of his conception. Dropping his face into his hand, Carlisle shifts his attention to Edward. “You do it. Hopefully without telling everyone here information they did _not_ need to know.” 

“Good luck with that.” Rosalie’s snarky reply travels across the room. She’s leaning her hip against the counter, close enough to snag Tanya should she attempt to flee. Again. 

“Well, tonight I went to go pick up Bella, who looked absolutely beautiful. Her skin, pale but still with the flush of life that she is so eager to have me take from her in order to become an immortal—why would a human crave this hellish existence? Why do we not have the strength to end ourselves, to rid the world of our kind?” 

“Edward,” Carlisle warns. 

“Ah, yes. Bella. She was wearing a blue dress Alice found, and seeing the color on her is a shock to the system, truly. We were on our way to the dance, I could barely keep my eyes on the road. The shoes, Alice, thank you.” 

“Anytime.” She grins, happy her efforts didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I got a call from Charlie from that horrid Tyler Crowley, in which he informed me—” 

“Edward!” Carlisle interjects. He sighs and turns back to me. 

“I hate to do this to you since you clearly need to go to a hospital soon, but at this point it’ll be faster for you to tell the story.” 

“Okay, the TL;DR is—” 

“The what now?” A perplexed look crosses the doctor’s features. 

“Oh, it means too long, didn’t read. It’s used before a summary.” Carlisle nods. “Bottom line, Tanya turned Nathan, my stalker, had him kidnap me and planned to turn me into a vampire and then kill me in order to kill off the old part of my soul. Thankfully, you guys showed up in time, and unless I bleed to death before this discussion is over, you all saved my life.” 

“This won’t take long at all, Raquel. If you were in imminent danger, Emmett would run you to the hospital.” 

“Funny little story, that is,” Tanya speaks up. I’d noticed a calculating look on her face while I spoke, the wheels in her head turning, trying to find an angle she could use to discredit me and make herself innocent. 

“Try traumatizing.” I throw back. She chuckles. 

“I think Raquel must have hit her head. You see, Carlisle, what _really_ happened is that I heard a scream while out hunting in the forest. I needed to do some soul searching after I left your home, to ponder and reflect on the rules of vampirism and whether I felt this was an offense to seek council with the Volturi over. So I was a solid five miles away or so when I heard the human’s scream. And, my curiosity piqued, I’ll admit, I had to see what was going on. I walk in here to find Nathan, was it? Standing over Raquel’s limp body, she had passed out from a hit to the head—she’s lucky he didn’t kill her with his strength. 

Anyhow, I knew that I wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him off completely, especially while protecting the human girl. I remembered how fondly Emmett thought of her and knew that I would want you all to do the same for me. So I quickly hatched a plan. I offered to join forces with this newborn under the pretense that he wouldn’t have been able to turn her himself due to the bloodthirst. Unfortunately, Raquel woke up at that time before I could explain, and she began trying to fight. Very valiant, I might add. Emmett, you picked a… feisty one.” 

“Hell yeah I did.” He shoots me a wink. I glare at him, sending a message to _read the room_. 

“I’m not sure how, but your sons found her while I was in the middle of my plan. Due to her uncooperative nature, I had to make him believe I was on his side, meaning I had to inflict some damage. Nothing vital was hit, I assure you.” 

“Have you ever heard of a stage slap?” I grumble. Tanya scoffs at me. 

“But of course, her self-preservation instincts kicked into high gear, as humans are wont to do, and she began to fight me off, causing her to get hurt even further. At that point, your sons arrived. Thank goodness, I wasn’t sure how I was going to escape with her wounded. I knew she would spin the narrative against me—I understand, of course, she couldn’t have known what I was doing and was giving her side of the story. I do apologize, Raquel.” She looks at me with mock sincerity, and I roll my eyes. 

“You know, Carlisle, that I would _never_ do anything to damage the relationship between our families. We are the only vegetarians around, it would be unwise for me, diplomatically, to harm Raquel. Not to mention how far back our family goes. How would I be able to get away with what she’s alleging?” 

“During your little monologue, you said you were going to kill Nathan and blame it all on him, telling the Cullens that you did it to avenge me, but the truth of the matter is it would tie off loose ends for you and leave no one to contest your story.” 

“It does you no good to lie, Raquel. You're going to believe the testimony of a sixteen--” 

“Seventeen.” 

“Whatever. A _child_ over me?” Tanya looks at Carlisle with an incredulous look in her amber eyes. 

“Carlisle, Raquel isn’t lying. I saw her perspective earlier. And she’s yelling at me mentally to tell you before she, and I quote “mutilates my ass beyond recognition.”” Carlisle throws a questioning look my way, and I shrug. 

“He was too busy having an existential crisis. I figured I’d help him snap out of it.” 

“And now she’s threatening your son? Carlisle, much has changed since we last spoke.” 

Carlisle pauses before he answers. The sudden silence stretches on, my nerves becoming increasingly fried as the seconds tick past. 

“Tanya, our families have been close for many years,” he begins. “Not many of our kind have been dedicated to the preservation of human life, despite the fact that all of us were, at one point, humans ourselves. I spent many, many years believing that my family and I were the only ones who conformed to this lifestyle, until I met your family. When I was with the Volturi, Aro tested me every day in new, creative ways, trying to see if he could break me. I did not. I did not allow anything to come in between my conviction to save humans and what I had become, and I believed for the longest time that your family, while not feeling the exact same way, also had committed to this vision. 

“But you see, Tanya, I haven’t known Raquel very long. But, I do feel as though I know her like a daughter. She is an old soul, and is highly immune to the deception that you’re accusing her of. She has willingly forgiven Emmett, knowing everything he has done to her in her past lives.” 

“Thanks for that, by the way.” Emmett looks down at me before returning his gaze to Carlisle. 

“Not now, Emmett, Carlisle is having his profound monologue moment.” I whisper back. 

“Clearly, she would not be so petty—” 

“I beg to differ.” I grumble, causing eight vampires to look over at me with expressions ranging from amusement to annoyance to downright hatred. “Sorry.” 

“—as to accuse you of a dastardly plot.” Carlisle continues as though I never spoke. “I also know Edward. Edward would not lie to me. So this leads me to believe their word over yours, despite everything our families have gone through. This disappoints me greatly, Tanya. Was everything you and your sisters claim to stand for a lie? 

“Turning a young man, terrible as he may be, into one of our kind and letting him loose in the streets of Seattle? Where he caused death to so many innocent people? All for an ill-thought-out revenge plot? I expect this sort of thing from the Volturi, Tanya, but not you.” Carlisle stops, letting his words sink in like a freshly dropped anchor. 

“Hell hath no fury like a vampire scorned.” I mumble. Emmett guffaws out a laugh, and I get a smug chuckle from Rosalie as well. 

“And I would’ve—” Tanya spits out. 

“Gotten away with it if it wasn’t for us meddling vamps and that human?” I interrupt her, emboldened by Carlisle's conclusion. She lunges for me, but Jackson and Edward grab onto her, holding her down in her chair. 

“Babe, as hot as it is watching you use your wit to destroy a jealous vampire trying to steal your man, can we save the sarcasm until after I’m sure she won’t be able to kill you?” I roll my eyes at him. 

“I make no promises.” 

“I know.” He sighs before turning to his father. “So where does that leave us, Nosfatheratu?” 

Carlisle shoots him a look that says _Really? Now?_ Before continuing his speech. “I don’t want to go to the Volturi over this. There’s no reason to get them involved. But I cannot in good faith just give you a slap on the wrist for this, nor can I just throw away hundreds of years of friendship and camaraderie with the few others who share our lifestyle. It is not fair to punish the rest of your coven for your childish, reckless behavior either. So many innocent people died, Tanya. I sent you back once, only for you to have the blood of countless innocents on your hands. 

“But my allegiance to you and your sisters also does not permit me to condone your immediate destruction. I am very serious—” 

“Dead serious,” Alice calls out with a serene little smile. Carlisle glances at her with wide eyes, as though saying _not you, too!_

“That this has to end. You’ve made your advances towards my son clear, and he has made his rejection clear. Consent is vital.” 

“You should’ve thought of that back in 1933.” Rosalie looks bored, but her words hold an undercurrent of annoyance and frustration. 

“You’re right, Rosalie. We can discuss that later, as now is not the time. Tanya, leave. Get out of the state, and do not come back. Do not set foot in the Pacific Northwest unless you are specifically invited. The rest of your coven may come and go as they please, but you are not to be anywhere near our territory. Do I make myself clear?” Tanya glares, but nods. 

“My husband is a very benevolent man, Tanya, as I’m sure you know.” Esme says, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “But I would not cross him again, as he is a loyal and dedicated husband and father. Our family includes Raquel now, and it would do you good to remember that.” 

“Your kindness knows no bounds,” Tanya says so softly I can barely hear her while looking down at her lap. “Thank you for not punishing my sisters and brother. If you ever need our support, please allow us the chance to prove our allegiance.” 

With that, Edward and Jackson lift their hands from her shoulders, and Tanya disappears into the night like a specter. She’s gone so quickly I briefly question whether or not she was even here, but my body throbs in pain, a physical reminder to punish me for my momentary lapse in memory. 

“Can I request a ten-page apology in MLA format detailing all of the ways she messed up and her plans to rectify them?” I ask. Carlisle chuckles. 

“No, Raquel, she doesn’t know what MLA is.” He says, looking forlornly off into the forest. I stand up and start walking towards the door, Emmett close behind me. I wobble in my heels, feeling lightheaded. 

“This is great and all, nobody died—yay! But I, uh, think I might need to get to the hospital. I feel a bit diz—” I don’t get to finish my sentence as I trip over nothing, losing consciousness before I hit the ground.


	29. Hospital Visit #2-Electric Boogaloo

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ Rhythmic beeping breaks into my consciousness. I reach an arm out to turn off my alarm, but stop when I feel a tugging sensation in the crook of my elbow. I set my arm down, trying to think of what happened the night before. I blink my eyes open, and I find myself in a sea of white. I try to sit up, to piece together the missing information in my brain when a pair of cold hands gently presses my shoulders back down. 

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask Emmett, whose appearance is more ragged than I can assume mine is. 

“The official story?” He asks. “Car accident.” 

“The reality?” I ask, reaching over to take his hand. 

“There’s this feeling in the pit of my stomach, it feels like it’s churning and I have this feeling of imminent danger.” Emmett describes. 

“I believe that’s called anxiety.” I inform him. 

“I’ve never been anxious in my life.” 

“First time for everything.” Emmett lets out a noise of begrudging agreement. 

At that moment a knock on the door leads me to look over and see a middle-aged doctor with graying hair peek his head in. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” He says, coming all the way into the room and standing at the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling, Miss Lewis?” 

“Fine and dandy. Kind of like I’ve been hit by a car.” Emmett lets out a startled laugh. The doctor’s eyes cut to him before refocusing on me. 

“I’d like to do a few tests before I let you go. You had a dislocated shoulder, a couple of broken ribs, some cuts and bruises, and a sprain in your ankle. It looks like that ankle had been healing from a break, is that right?” 

“Yeah. Bad juju seems to follow me where I go.” I shrug, hissing at the pain in my shoulder. 

“Hm,” the doctor says, writing on his clipboard. “I’ll send a nurse in to get some blood. Sit tight.” 

“I’ll be plotting my escape.” I reply, gaining a confused look from the doctor on his way out. 

“Care to translate?” I ask Carlisle, who’s sitting in the corner on a vinyl chair. 

“Translate what?” 

“Doctor noises. ‘Hm?’” I quote the doctor, trying to match his intonation. 

“Well, I know for a fact that you are fine, Raquel. You had some scrapes and you went into shock. They’re stumped at how Emmett is perfectly fine and you are relatively okay, considering the wreck totaled your car.” 

“Your Jeep?” I ask Emmett. 

“Hell no. We totaled one of Edward’s cars.” I raise an eyebrow at him. He sighs before explaining. 

“Rosalie only agreed to help us create an “accident” if she got to destroy one of Edward’s cars as, and I quote, ‘a fraction of the cost she has paid to put up with his whiny emo ass and pretentious demeanor.’” I laugh. 

“I think she got inspiration from you.” Carlisle adds, trying to suppress a grin. 

“Another part of the deal was her getting to run Edward over. And backing up over him, too.” I cackle at the mental image of Edward tied to train tracks with a train coming, driven by Rosalie like an old movie damsel in distress. 

“My parents?” I ask, worried about the stress this will cause them. 

“After Rosalie had her fun, she went and explained to them what happened. They wanted to come but we convinced them that you’d be out within a few hours, and there was no need for them to make the trip up here.” 

I nod. “She just wanted to see Will, didn’t she?” 

“That was part of it,” Carlisle concedes. “But she does like you, Raquel. She won’t admit it, but she thinks of you as an equal.” 

“She probably didn’t want you to tell me that.” 

“No, I suppose she doesn’t.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t go making her a friendship bracelet or anything.” Carlisle laughs. Emmett sits beside me, drawing circles on the back of my hand, creating a little trail of ice where his fingers trace, a frown clouding his features. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and it begins to worry me. I flick my eyes over to Carlisle, my question obvious in my eyes. He mouths “give it time” to me. 

“What time is it, anyway?” I ask, trying to keep the mood up in the room. 

“2 in the morning.” 

“Great. I can’t believe I missed the rest of prom.” I try to swoon dramatically, but Emmett is holding my good hand and my other arm has an IV in it. “Alice is going to kill me for ruining the dress.” 

“She’s already tailoring it. She also grabbed you some clothes to change into while Rosalie spoke to your parents.” 

“The one time I’m actually grateful for her fashion-focused ways.” I look down at the hospital gown I’m in and grimace. 

“She’ll grow on you.” Carlisle chuckles. 

After a nurse comes in, takes some blood, takes out the IV, and leaves with a smile, there’s a period of silence, the tension rising with every beat. 

“Carlisle?” I ask. “Would you mind getting me something from the vending machine? I’ll pay you back later.” 

“Of course, Raquel. No need to pay me back, if anything we should be paying _you_.” With a wave, Carlisle sets off at a brisk walk on his mission, off to give me and Emmett some much needed privacy. 

“You’re abnormally quiet.” I state the obvious. 

“This is the second time you’ve ended up in a hospital because of me.” 

“Well, not _exactly_. I’m not in here because you smashed a few bones or tried to take a bite out of me, though I am told I am delicious.” I try to lighten the mood, but Emmett only gives me a half-hearted curl of his lips. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“If I had protected you better—” 

“Oh, please, Em, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me.” I pull my hand away, crossing my arms over my chest, ignoring the pain of the IV when I do so. “Nathan would have come after me regardless of whether I was here or Virginia. In fact, I’m probably only alive because of you. And the way that I can’t control Nathan’s actions is the same way that you can’t control Tanya’s. Even if you fell in love with another vampire, I’m sure she would’ve done anything in her power to murder them as well. You don’t get to pull an Edward and beat yourself up about something that wasn’t your fault in the first place. If anything, you should be proud of yourself for saving me in time—in both instances.” 

“The fact of the matter is, Quel, that you are in way more danger by being with me.” 

“Well, any time that I haven’t been with you, you’ve murdered me, so I don’t see what your point is.” 

“You’re fragile as a human—don’t give me that look!” He holds up his hands in surrender at my death glare. “You’re a strong person, but you physically aren’t strong. Even against other humans. Not only do I have to protect you from the supernatural, but I have to protect you from other humans and at the end of the day, me as well.” 

“That’s the thing, Emmett, I don’t _need_ protecting.” 

“You’d be dead right now if I hadn’t protected you.” He points out, frustration lacing his voice. 

“Maybe so. But even when I’m dead, I’m not out. I come back, remember?” 

“That’s the thing, Raquel! You coming back isn’t guaranteed. What if you completed your injustices and this time is the last time?” 

I pause, thinking over his words. “I hadn’t considered that before. But if it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go. The universe has already granted me second, third, fourth, however many chances—and I am eternally grateful for that because this go-round I got to meet you, and not in a dark alley or on my deathbed.” He winces. 

“That was a joke. Live a little.” I roll my eyes. 

“The living ship has sailed, Quel.” A smile breaks over his face. 

“There’s my Emmett.” I grin, happy he’s joking around again. I turn serious again. “I also wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love with you, either. And I wouldn’t change this for anything, not even more chances.” 

“I hate to sound like Edward here, but you’ve barely lived any life yet.” 

“You’re right,” I acknowledge. “But I want to live my life with you.” 

“That’s what I’m worried about!” Exasperation takes over. Emmett runs his hands through his black curls, tugging on them. 

“Me… living?” I ask, confused. 

“No, you living and getting hurt and dying because of me!” 

“Damn, Edward did a number on you, huh?” 

“I’m serious, Raquel.” 

“So am I, Emmett.” I match his tone. 

“And if I kill you again?” 

“Then I’ll probably come back. Though I don’t think you will.” 

“And you’re willing to bet your life on that? I don’t have the best track record, Quel.” 

“Yeah. I am. Because I trust you.” 

Emmett lets out a sigh. “I don’t want to keep asking you because I don’t want you to feel pressured, but have you given any more thought to getting turned?” 

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Yes and no, Emmett. If I’m being completely honest, I want to be turned, but the more I think about it—the more I realize everything I’m giving up. My family, my friends, pizza, sleep!” Emmett chuckles at the last two. 

“Glad to see your priorities are in order. That’s completely fair. Maybe we can work things out so that you maybe wouldn’t have to completely give up all of that.” I consider this. 

“What has Alice seen?” I ask. 

“About you? She won’t tell me. I think Rosalie put a gag order on her. Rose has a… complicated relationship with vampirism, but you’ll have to ask her for the full story. She doesn’t want you to be pressured, either. She would probably tear me limb from limb if she knew I was asking you again.” My respect for Rosalie only increases. 

“Hmmmm…” I contemplate, tapping my chin. “I still need to think about it. It’s a lot, especially since this isn’t a change-or-you-die situation.” 

Emmett nods. “I respect that. You will let me know when you’ve made your decision, right?” 

“I swear to you I will.” I look up at him earnestly. He takes my hand again and brings it to his lips. 

“Ugh, you smell like a hospital.” 

“Wow, thanks. You sure know how to make a girl swoon, Emmett.” 

“Oh please. If I was actually trying to make you swoon, they wouldn’t let you out of this hospital because you’d be tachycardic.” 

“Did Edward teach you that word?” I tease, relieved our banter is back. 

“Carlisle, actually. Edward doesn’t have the patience to teach me anything. Partially because I enjoy diagnosing people with dyingitis even if it’s just a cold.” I try, and fail, to hold in my laughter. 

“Dyingitis?” I manage to choke out. 

“I’ve diagnosed Carlisle with stage 4 fatheritis. He was not amused.” 

“That’s because at best, I have stage 3.” Carlisle says as he enters the room, holding a candy bar. 

“Count Dadcula! You’re back. Any news from the not-as-cool-but-more-alive doctors?” Emmett asks. Carlisle lets out a resigned sigh, makes eye contact with me, and shakes his head at his son’s antics. 

“Everything looks good. They’ll be in to release you shortly.” Emmett hops up and takes the candy bar from Carlisle, peeling open the packaging and handing it to me. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

“You do know my dad’s gonna kill you, right?” I say conversationally, munching on the sweet chocolatey goodness. 

“It wasn’t even my fault! The person was texting and driving and kinda slammed into the side of our car.” 

“He doesn’t care. I’m his only daughter. I mean, I’d be grateful you’re indestructible.” 

“I talked to him, Raquel, and assured him that Emmett would be adequately punished.” Carlisle interjects from his seat in the corner, where he’s reading some files of patients, I assume. 

I raise an eyebrow at Emmett. “I have to buy Edward a new car.” 

“That’s it? No road safety classes? Community service?” 

“I’ll add it to the list.” Carlisle chimes in. I laugh. 

“Thanks a lot.” Emmett rolls his eyes and nudges me. 

“What can I say? I’m here to help.” 

At that moment, the doctor comes back in. 

“Well, Miss Lewis, your labs look great, you seem to be feeling okay, and since there isn’t too much we can do for you for your ribs, we’ve decided to let you go. If you need to, you can take anti-inflammatories for the pain. If you find that you’re suddenly having trouble breathing, please come in, but other than that, just rest and take it easy while you heal. I’ll have a nurse bring you a wheelchair.” 

“That’s not necessary, I can get by with crutches.” The doctor looks like he’s about to protest. 

“What my lovely girlfriend here is trying to say is that she wants me to carry her. She likes to act tough, but she just wants me to scoop her up with these bad boys.” Emmett flexes, ignoring the obvious glare I give him. The doctor looks at Emmett wearily, just nodding in order to get this weird group out of the hospital as quickly as possible. When he leaves, I smack Emmett’s arm. 

“It’s fine, babe, I know how much you love them.” He winks at me. I scoff. 

“You are unbelievable.” 

“Unbelievably in love with you.” 

“Keep that up and I’ll have Carlisle carry me out of here.” I go into the small bathroom within my room and change into the cozy outfit Alice sent for me, a hoodie and sweatpants with a pair of slip-on shoes. 

“Let’s go, Emmett, _before_ your girlfriend decides that your cheesiness is too much for her to handle.” Carlisle says, standing up and brushing invisible lint off of his clothing. Emmett picks me up and grins down at me. I try to hide my face, the crimson shade of which gives away my embarrassment and shyness. 

“So, come here often?” He asks. 

“Too often, according to some people.” I argue back. He rolls his eyes. 

“You’re no fun this morning.” 

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus and I’m tired. Some of us need sleep.” 

“Okay, okay,” He gives up, following Carlisle down to the front desk, “you can sleep now, if you’d like.” 

“I think I…will.” My voice trails off, my eyes drooping. Emmett chuckles and strokes my face, his cool fingers being the first thing I felt when I woke up and the last thing I feel as I fall asleep.


	30. Finality

A few days later, I pull on an ocean blue sundress with a pattern of little pink flowers on it and a cropped jean jacket. I tie my hair up into a decent ponytail, even though there are a few stray hairs, that will not cooperate, no matter how much I beg, plead, threaten, or curse them. I make my way down the stairs carefully, my wrapped ankle giving me some pain. Emmett sent me a text inviting me on a “cute ass lunch date with a cute ass vampire,” to which I responded “Alice or Rosalie?”. He was not amused. I grab my sandals by the front door before making my way to the kitchen to find my mother. 

“I’m going on a date with Emmett. _Please_ don’t tell Dad.” I give her my best puppy dog eyes. My dad hasn’t been the most welcoming to Emmett, thinking it was his recklessness that caused my accident. I turn to go back to the front door when I hear my mom call out. 

“Bryce! Raquel is going on a date with Emmett!” I whirl around, my hand on the front door. 

“Betrayal! I expect this from Will, but from you, my dear mother? How could you?” 

She peeks her head into the front hall. “Do you really have the time to be dramatic?” 

I sigh. She’s right. I can hear my father’s footsteps thundering down the stairs. 

“This isn’t over.” I half mumble, throwing the door open and making my escape. I manage to get into my car and up the driveway before my dad has opened the front door and is angrily gesturing at me to get back in the house. I back out of the driveway, giving him a cheery wave before turning onto the main road and taking the familiar route to the Cullen house. 

Emmett’s waiting for me on the front steps, his knee bouncing in nerves. I park my car in the yard and climb out. Emmett gets up and comes over to me, greeting me with a kiss on my cheek. 

“You look pretty.” He strokes my cheek with his hand, sending a pleasant shiver through my body. 

“Thank you. What’s on the agenda for today?” 

“I’ll show you. Hop on.” He turns around, letting me hop up onto his back. He takes off through the forest surrounding his home, and after a few moments of blurred running, I figure out where he’s headed. He sets me down in the same clearing where we had our first kiss, but this time there’s a red checkered blanket with a picnic basket on the ground beside the brook. I look up at Emmett, who nods towards the blanket, taking my hand and pulling me over and down onto it. 

“We aren’t pulling a Goldilocks here, are we?” I raise an eyebrow. Emmett laughs, the sound echoing around us. 

“No, I _did_ have Esme’s help with the food, and Alice gave me directions on how to make it ‘aesthetic,’ whatever that means.” he does air quotes around the words. I open the basket to find a ham and cheese sandwich, a bottle of lemonade, some blueberries, and a chocolate cupcake. 

“Did you make these?” I ask. 

“Mostly Esme did. I was never a chef in my human life.” I pull out the sandwich and begin eating it. After I swallow a few bites, I break the silence. 

“When you asked me on a lunch date I was a little concerned over whether I’d be receiving the meal or I’d _be_ the meal.” Emmett smirks. 

“Well, you are a whole buffet—” I snort. “But you’re too cute to eat. Bite, on the other hand.” He shrugs. We’ve fallen into a joking pattern over me being turned. I look down at the blanket and see a black “R + E” sewn into the fabric, surrounded by a crimson embroidered heart. 

“Did Esme sew this too?” I look up at him. He scratches the back of his neck and looks sheepish. 

“Actually, I did.” 

“You can _sew_? Em, you are full of surprises.” 

“My human ma used to be able to, and I sort of picked up the skill from her, but Esme helped me refine it. It was a way for me to practice not using all my strength. I’ve snapped a lot of needles.” 

“That’s so precious,” I say tenderly. “Did you use Edward as a pincushion?” 

Emmett laughs hard, laying back before sitting up again. “No, thank you for the idea though.” 

“I love it. And you.” I tell him, tracing the heart. 

We sit in companionable silence, me eating the delicious food, Emmett looking at our surroundings. After I’ve savored the last delectable bite of the chocolate cupcake, I take a deep breath, causing Emmett to look over at me curiously. 

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’ve come to a decision.” I tell him, not needing to specify the context, as the air becomes more somber when we speak about the prospect of me becoming a vampire. 

“Before you say it, I want you to know that whatever you’ve decided I understand, and I’m not going to love you any less. If you say yes, I’ll be happy because I get to keep you around for, well, eternity. If you say no, I’ll be happy because not only do I get to have you in this life, but when you come back—don’t look at me like that, if we’re supposed to be together eternally then your business is unfinished all the time, I’ll get to fall in love with you all over again. Either way, your presence in my life—or unlife—is something that I am so grateful for I cannot put into words.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the one giving a speech here.” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. Emmett rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, hit me.” I punch his arm lightly, knowing what he meant. He looks down at me, rolling his eyes again before taking my hands in his freezing ones. Surprisingly, the chill calms me instead of making me more anxious. I take a deep breath. 

“I’ve decided that I want you to turn me, but—” I point at him as he opens his mouth to say something. He makes a show of closing his mouth and zipping it up with a key. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with Will,” I grumble with an eyeroll. “I have some conditions.” 

“Yes to all of them.” 

“You don’t even know what they are!” 

“Don’t have to. I’d do anything to keep you with me.” 

“So your speech before was a lie?” 

“No, but to be fair it’d be easier to keep this version of you with me for eternity. Having to tell you I killed you over and over? Not a good look for me.” 

“Should’ve thought of that before you murdered me.” Emmett laughs. 

“Continue. I need to know what I’m signing up for.” 

“Well, it’s not an easy decision to make, and I think I may vacillate back and forth for a while. At the end of the day though, I want to be with you forever. But I also can’t lose my family. They mean too much to me. And after everything I’ve put them through, I can’t just “die” and leave them with no answers.” 

“None of that was your fault.” 

“Emmett, I’m serious.” He nods, contemplating my words and the seriousness behind them. 

“We can probably swing it so you can see them. We’d have to lie like hell and say we’ve gotten enough botox to land us on _Botched_ , but it’d probably work.” Emmett shrugs. 

“I don’t know that Will will buy it, but it’s worth a shot. I also don’t know when I want to be turned. I want to be at least your age, if not older—” 

Emmett raises his hand. “Yes?” I ask. 

“My age as in twenty, or my age as in ninety-something?” 

“Twenty. Preferably older, Lord knows you all could use another person with a fully-developed brain around here.” 

“Hey!” 

“You and Jackson made a catapulting seesaw and had a competition to see who could get thrown the farthest.” I remind him. He laughs. 

“You’re just jealous you couldn’t participate.” 

“I don’t particularly want to get thrown face first into a tree.” 

“I’d catch you before that happens.” 

“Whatever you say, Em,” I pat his head like a child. “I also want to be your age so there’s less of a power dynamic there. And I want to be older than Edward.” 

“Yeah, I guess being seventeen should only be for being the dancing queen, huh?” I laugh. 

“There is a caveat, however,” I begin. “Unless circumstances change, like me almost dying and there being no other way of saving me, then you have my permission to turn me prematurely.” I end, rubbing Emmett’s hand, examining the sparkles within it in the sun to avoid making eye contact with him. 

“That’s it?” He asks. I look up at him, startled. “No castles, no slaying dragons? Just time and a way to stay in your family’s lives?” 

“Those are the only relevant things.” 

“You had me worried for a second. I was waiting for you to pull out an impossibility in order to trap me or something.” 

I roll my eyes. “Please, I already have you whipped. And you’d find a way to do whatever I said.” 

“If it made you happy, then yes.” 

“I love you.” I say shyly. Emmett tilts my chin up, placing his lips on mine. His scent engulfs me, the forest-y aroma strengthened by our surroundings, the orange tang slipping to an undertone. He pulls back before dropping three quick pecks to my lips. 

“I love you, too, Quel.” He wraps his arms around me, and I feel at peace, at home, like I’ve found the secret to forever, and I’m never going to let go. 

THE END


	31. Author's Note and FAQ

Thank you so so so very much for reading _Old Soul_! I am so incredibly grateful to a lot of people for supporting me on this journey, so I figured now is the time to thank people before I have a quick FAQ:)  
First up, to F. My best friend, kinda sorta beta reader, and all around amazing human. You already know I love you to death, but here it is again: I love you, you're amazing, I wouldn't be here without you. (This is being published on her birthday as well, so consider it a present). Thank you for listening to me ramble about this, think through ideas, and just being there for me.

The Eggs-Y'all already know this probs wouldn't have been published without y'all pushing me and validating me in the chat. Special shout out's to L (fellow thotturi and #1 fan-nb of Old Soul) I love you lots and your memes and Carlisle names still make me laugh, and to the other L (brit. only personality trait)-I know I've played with your emotions and made you yell at me in the chat, but it was worth it, ay? Also, A (babie Brit) for the cover of Old Soul for Wattpad and FFN, now you can binge it. Go wild.

And of course, you dear reader. For just perusing the fic, for kudosing, commenting, interacting, all of this. Thank you so so much, I write for you all (and myself, but y'all give me motivation to continue to write and actually get it out there). 

(Also, quick note to the people who skip to the end to see if the pairing ends up together (AKA me lol) YES THEY DO!)

Alright, enough sappiness.

Thank you again,  
Holly

FAQ

Q: Will there be more books after Old Soul?  
A: Tentative yes. I love Raquel & Emmett (Raquemmett, if you will) and I have ideas to explore for the latter books.  
Q: Do you have any other pairings/works?  
A: Not yet, but I do have an idea that came about around the same time as Old Soul that has a lot of humor and ends in angst, it involves the Volturi and a ghost;), it kind of depends on what my audience wants to see.  
Q: When will you update?  
A: I actually start my next semester at college in a couple of days (at the time of publishing) so ideally I'd be able to have ideas and write them within a week, but with classes and whatnot I may not be able to. So it'll be sporadic most likely. Keeping to a schedule is hard.  
Q: Do you have any social media?  
A: My handle is emmettsmantiddies on tumblr, Instagram, Wattpad, AO3, and FFN:)  
Q: Can I send you memes about Old Soul or thoughts and opinions?  
A: PLEASE DO! I love it so much:) if you're scared, my anons are open on tumblr!  
Q: Why did you change Jasper to Jackson?  
A: Long story short: Racism isn't okay, and Jasper's backstory is too problematic for me to just wave my magical writer wand and fix the racism. POC in the fandom have spoken about how harmful his backstory is, and there's no way to rectify that. At first, I did leave him as Jasper, but now that the book is done, I'll be changing him to Jackson. Essentially, he serves the same purpose as Jasper, but he was never a Confederate and you'll get to see more of his new backstory later on (which was created by @simply-ellas-stuff on tumblr and gave me permission to use). There isn't an answer to make everyone happy, but I decided that if I am dedicated to doing my best to fix the blatant racism within the series, changing Jasper into Jackson is the best option. 


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